


Four Seasons Twenty Years

by Emmagem803



Category: Bleach
Genre: Aizen arch, BDSM, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Self-Acceptance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Yaoi, before manga canon, self discovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 21:31:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmagem803/pseuds/Emmagem803
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy is found wandering the streets of the Seireitei, where anyone could find him after dark. He is taken into the Ukitake family and dubbed Arata. As he gets older, he is pulled into one of the most traumatic events in Soul Society. Lives will be ruined, lovers separated, but most importantly, Arata will find out what really happened to him all those years ago.<br/>Edited and now betaed by M.J. Blacklake and Udunie</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. life among machines

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome, This is my first fanfic, my first yaoi, and my first attempt at a relationship story. I've had this idea in my head for years now and I'm slowly getting it down on paper. I love Bleach and I want to expand on the poorly developed world that lies under the surface of epic fights and comic characters.  
> Please enjoy!

The eerie green lights from the machines cast dark shadows over the three occupants of the room. It caused the white of the young man’s hair to glow sickly. His dark brown eyes were steady as he stared down at the small body bound inside the tube in front of him. There were so many tubes and wires that it was hard to tell that there actually was a person inside. All that was visible was one half lidded eye, surrounded by the grey of metal, suspended in an unknown liquid.

The third occupant stood in front of a computer typing at lightning speed. He had the green light reflect of his pale face makeup. He paused, turning towards the man, glaring him down, though the other took no notice. “Captain Ukitake, it would be advisable for you to step back. I’ve never released an item from suspension this quickly before. It might react violently.” The man sounded like he couldn’t wish for anything better.

Ukitake, never turning his gaze away from the boy, took two hesitant steps. “Make sure that he isn’t in pain.”

The man scoffed and turned back to his machines. Seconds later, a loud clank, followed by the rush of draining water, echoed across the walls. Once it was empty, the glass slid away, a table rose to support the weight. The tubes rested heavily over the prone figure, unaware of anything happening to him. 

“Can’t believe I’ve been reduced to this,” the man grumbled as he moved to remove the machinery. “I have people to do this trivial… I've better things to do…”

“Captain Kurotsuchi,” Ukitake said, his voice nearing a growl. “This is your mistake, one that you have been ordered to hand over. You will handle every single detail of this boy’s release.” 

Kurotsuchi gave a short laugh of contempt. “You have become very passionate about this, I have to wonder why.”

Ukitake gave no reply, and the tense conversation dropped as the scientist worked. Ukitake forced himself to keep an impassive face. He made sure Kurotsuchi was careful, wanting nothing to damage the body underneath. The process took hours, slowly revealing the boy under the countless wires, IVs, tubes that lead everywhere. As the large breathing apparatus was jerked out of the boy’s throat, Ukitake couldn’t help but shudder at the horrid gasping coughs, reminding him of his own. _You’re a monster, Kurotsuchi._

Pale skin was stretched over jutting bones. Grey hair plastered to his hollow face. His sudden movements were a reflex, he relaxed to lay flat on the table, his eyes dull and unfocused. Frailty and vulnerability emanated from every angle of this boy. Kurotsuchi poked and prodded a few places, checking for signs of life, then withdrew. “It will wake up in five minutes."

“I want you gone,” he said softly. “And please inform the Commander-Captain that you are done.”

“Hmph,” Kurotsuchi scoffed, but complied, turning away and exiting through the only door. 

Ukitake sighed in relief, glad that the madman was finally gone. This was probably the longest he had to stand the scientist. His complete lack of morality always disgusted Ukitake, with this being only one of his vile crimes. _I don’t know which is worse, the idea that he can do something like this to a child, or that he almost got away with it._

He carefully took off his captain hiori, draping it over the boy, which only made him look three times smaller. _How old is this child?_ he wondered. He brushed a strand of hair away from the boy’s forehead, noting the sticky feeling it had. A shower would be in order. And some clothes. _This will be a very big shock to him…_ he was pulled out of his thoughts by a soft twitch of muscle. The boy was waking up. Ukitake moved away to give him some room. 

Life flared into his body in an instant. He jerked into a sitting position, his gaze flicking around the room. Quite sounds of distress came from him, raw and horse. Ukitake moved his hand slightly, catching his attention, turning his head so fast his hair spread the liquid on the floor. Ukitake gasped at the wide, bright color of his eyes; a light turquoise. The boy instantly became still, making no noise, like a trapped animal. 

Ukitake smiled kindly, making a conscious effort not to over-do it. “Hello.” 

The boy blinked slowly. He clutched the fabric, pulling it up to his chest. “H-hello,” he said hesitantly, which caused him to cough.

“Would you like some water?” Ukitake asked He grabbed a glass from the sterilization cabinet and walked over to the sink in the corner. He had used it several times while waiting, so he knew that it was safe. He filled the cup and gave it to the boy, who took it eagerly. “Please drink slowly, or you’ll be sick.” The boy nodded, taking two small sips before trying to speak again, but with worse results. Once he was done coughing, the child looked up sadly at him. “It’s all right. Your voice isn’t gone forever. Your throat is just out of use, you haven’t eaten for a long time. Still it’s probably best that you don’t talk for now. I’ll do enough of that for both of us. ” The boy smiled and nodded. “But I have some things I want to know about you, so I’ll ask you a question, and you’ll just shake your head for no or yes, okay?” Again, the boy nodded. 

Ukitake took the chair from the computer port and sat down next to the table. The child took advantage of the stranger’s distraction, arranging the coat around his legs and torso, threading his thin arms through the sleeves, and letting the tail ends dangle with his feet, kicking at it to amuse himself. Ukitake allowed him to do so, enjoying the show of childish movement. After a while, the boy seemed to remember there was something he was supposed to do, so he stopped, and looked at the man expectantly. Ukitake couldn’t help a small laugh. It was very adorable. 

“My name is Jushiro, I’m a Captain for the Gotei 13,” he started, “Do you know what that is?” An eager nod, the child happy at getting to answer and play along. “Do you have a name?” The boy shook his head. Ukitake sighed, figuring as much. No one had come looking for him, so it was safe to assume that he had no one. “How about I call you Arata? Will you be able to remember that?” the boy scrunched his nose, annoyed at being asked such a question, and nodded firmly several times. “All right, all right. I believe you,” he said laughing. The boy, Arata now, tried to join in, but only managed a few soft wheezes. 

“Now, do you know where you are?” No. “You’re in the Seireitei, do remember that?” Arata nodded, looking suddenly fearful, his eyes shifting again, looking anywhere else. “You’re not in any trouble, no one is mad.” _That isn’t true, but there is no reason he ever needs to know that._ “Is there someplace you lived before? In a house?” No. “Do you have anyone taking care of you?” No with very sad eyes. “Do you know how old you are?” Arata nodded holding up four fingers to show off. _That looks right._ “Very good.” The boy smiled at the praise.

“Arata, would you like to come with me?” The boy looked around again, biting his lip nervously. He didn’t know how to answer. “It’s not very comfortable here, huh?” A nod. “I have a home nearby. It has a lot of comfortable places, and we could sit outside and eat some good food.” He did a quick scan of the room, making sure Arata followed the movement. “I know you can’t tell from here, but it’s sunny and cool today.” At the mention of outside, Arata started nodding fiercely, scrambling to get off the table. His spastic movements only helped get him tangled up in the long coat. 

Ukitake smiled. _He’s very cute,_ he thought, _it won’t be hard to take him in._ “Here, let me help you.” He grabbed the small hands and lowered him to the ground. He took two ends of the fabric and wrapped them crisscross around him, tying it in the back. Arata tested his mobility by jumping and walking around on the tiles, but never going more than two steps away from Ukitake. Apparently, it passed his requirements. He took the man’s hand and tried to pull him to the door.

Ukitake allowed it for a few paces, “All right, you better let me lead the way. You don’t know where you’re going.” Arata giggled and let didn’t let up, leading until he reached the door. His wide blue-green eyes stared up at the out-of-reach doorknob. After several failed jumping attempts, he scrunched his nose again, then stepped back, letting Ukitake forward. “Thank you, Arata. That was a good try.”

Jushiro Ukitake left the dreary room full of machines, taking the only life they had ever held. The one he had chosen to call Arata.  
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Further off, in the same building, long pale fingers worked over a keyboard, the typist’s evil smile reflect the screen. Kurotsuchi wrote for his personal log:

'Subject 231 of the R.T.E has been unexpectedly released for field testing. Subject will be interacting with the physical world. The others have dubbed it Arata Ukitake. I am looking forward to the data this will bring.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment and review!


	2. Last Day

Arata couldn’t keep the smile off his face. His hands shook with excitement, making the paper in his grip unreadable. _I’ll finally be able to get rid of these stupid clothes!_ He caught himself thinking, shaking his head in disbelief, of all the things that come to mind, that should not be one of them Arata! He looked down at the stiff and itchy fabric of the Academy uniform. _But that will be a very satisfying moment. Replacing white with black!_

He sprinted out of the building; short, snow white hair flicking at his ears. He made sure that he didn’t run into any of the others as they reacted the same way to the same news. The high white walled roads guided his way. He nimbly dodge the slow ones, the ones who do not have such great news. The girls slumped shouldered in their red colored uniforms, and boys in their blue. Despite his rush, it took him an hour to reach his destination after dodging various people, none of them seeming to be amused by his excitement. Finally, the narrow streets opened up into wide courtyards, surrounded by the guarded walls of the estates. 

He turned into one of the first gates in, _I’m glad I don’t live further down,_ he thought as he looked down the row of endless roofs of mansions, _it would take forever to get to Kuchiki Manor._ The further towards the center, the higher up the hierarchy that family was. He looked gratefully at the modest gates as he entered into his home. Tanned hands waved at the people he passed here, faces he had grown up with: guards, servants, family members, all spread out over the property. No one questioned the ecstatic boy as he passed into the lush green courtyard, through the sliding doors leading inside the main house. They all knew what had happened today. 

But as soon as the door was shut, the young man let out a long sigh, calming himself, making sure his breathing was even. His presence shrank, leaving a poised young man, though his turquoise eyes retained their wide, excited energy. He slipped off his shoes carefully, and made his way further into the house. He stopped once he hit the entrance room to the family healing chamber. A figure sat silently on the floor, turning when they heard his approach. 

Arata smiled at the small woman. She return the gesture, waving her gloved hands eagerly. “Did you get your results?” she whispered. He nodded showing her the paper in his hand. “That’s great, Arata!” 

He smiled at her excitement, but she wasn’t the one he wanted to see. “May I go in?” he asked, gesturing towards the large door.

“He said to send you as soon as you got here,” she whispered happily.

“Thanks,” he said, stepping passed her and sliding inside as quietly as he could. I’m going to get him this time.  
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
The water shifted with the vibrations from the outside room, waking Ukitake from his sleep. He opened his soft brown eyes half way, but made no move otherwise. Arata was always trying to sneak up on him. It brought a smile to his pale face, and made him a tad prideful that his son, after all these years, had never succeeded. 

“You’ve come early, Arata,” he said softly. He heard a mumbled ‘damn,’ but did not bother to point it out. Arata walked around the edge of the pool, into his view. His academy uniform hung loosely off his straight shoulders, and a paper was clutched in his tanned hands. 

“I ran home,” Arata admitted. He knelt on the titled floor, facing towards his father. “So did half the class.”

“Good news, I hope,” Ukitake said, moving to sit up fully. The room’s air felt cool on his wet chest.

Arata smiled, waving the paper in front of his face, now damp from the steam. “Arata Ukitake is ordered to report to squad six at 7:00 on January 14th for services to the Gotei 13.” 

“Squad six?” Ukitake asked, raising his eyebrows. “Little Byakuya wants you?”

Arata scrunched his nose, something he had not lost from his childhood. “You should stop calling him that. He’s a captain and a clan leader now.” 

Ukitake smiled, standing up and exiting the bath. He grabbed a folded robe. “I remember him when he was younger than you. He was always running around with his practice sword, trying to make people think he was twice as nasty as he was.” He moved to put the cloth over his shoulders, but froze as his muscles locked. His chest lurched, his frozen muscles only allowing him to release hacking coughs. 

Arata was at his father’s side in an instant. He caught him by the chest, guiding him to the floor, so that he didn’t hurt his knees. Arata kept his own breath even, moving his fingers with practiced ease. He massaged small circles, starting with the center and working his way out, not stopping until the man was still and relaxed. 

There was a moment of tense silence, letting both people regain their composure. Then long arms wrapped around slim, shaking shoulders. Ukitake placed his chin on top of his son’s head. “I’m proud of you, Arata,” he whispered into soft hair. 

Arata returned the gesture, pressing his face into his neck. “You got out of the water too fast, old man,” he mumbled. He turned to fit more comfortably in his father’s arms. He could see his face, and noted the lack of blood. That’s a good sign. “You should get back in.”

“Perhaps,” Ukitake agreed. “But I want to celebrate this day with my son. Which involves an extravagant dinner and no healing baths. ” 

Arata snorted. “Well, you’re going to have to straighten yourself up. Your 3rd seat is out there.”

“Oh dear, both of them?” Ukitake asked, groaning.

“Last I checked, it was just Kiyone.”

“Good.” Ukitake stretched his arms out and stood. Moving carefully, flexing his muscles, he tested his limbs. “Kiean is still in the office. He didn’t even come to check if I was up today, just went to work!” 

Arata followed, standing next to him. “He seems to be getting a little snarky, huh?”

Ukitake laughed. “You’re one to talk,” he said. 

“I’m not that bad,” Arata muttered, looking away, determined to look hurt. It lasted only a few moments, ending when Ukitake placed his hand on top of Arata’s head, bringing a smile on the boy’s lips.

“No, you’re not.”  
000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
Arata lay down on his back, trying to relieve the stretch on his stomach. He usually didn’t indulge this much, but he hadn’t been home in weeks, and tonight was special. _I deserve it_ , he thought. His father sat next to him, leaning so that his long hair pooled next to him. “Thank you, Father, I haven’t eaten like that for weeks!” 

“A crime!” Ukitake declared, chuckling. Arata’s eyes started to drifted shut sleepily. “Hey, I thought you would want to stay in your room. The floor can’t be that comfy that you would forget your own bed.”

“Too far,” he whined. “I want to know what I’m going to be doing!” He took out the piece of paper and shook it, as if it was its fault what it said. “Why are you so undescriptive?” 

“Not everyone gets a specific assignment their first time,” Ukitake said calmly. “And you couldn’t have expected it. You aren’t strong enough. You don’t have a shikai, and do not have any specific skill sets for the kido or stealth force.” He would not tell Arata, but he was pleased by this. He did not want his son to step into a violent career when he was fresh from the academy. Squad six was mostly home bound at any given time, so he had very little to worry about now. “You’ll probably start out small, patrolling the Rukon with a more experienced person, running errands for the officers. And perhaps in about six months, you’ll be given assignments on your own or with another person.”

“And by then, I’ll have my shikai!” he exclaimed happily. “I’m getting really close to its name. It’s just being really difficult.”

“First interactions are always the hardest. What does it want you to do?”

“They want me to catch them.”

“They?” he asked. “Do you think that you have two?”

“Maybe, but that would be too much to hope for,” Arata said, “And it won’t matter anyways if I can’t find them. I haven’t even seen anything in my mind, just black hallways.”

“You’ll do it. I remember Sōgyo no Kotowari doing something very similar. It took me months.”

They heard footsteps from outside the room. As they got closer, they could tell it was more than one. Arata quickly sat up and straightened his cloths. He was comfortable being relaxed around his father, but after living here for so long, he had learned that anyone could come through those doors.

“Captain Kuchiki here to speak with you, sir,” a voice said from the other side of the wall. 

Arata felt his eyes could not have gotten any bigger. He had met the Clan Lord many times before, always at formal gatherings or when the higher officers met at the manor. The cold, dark grey eyes always stayed with him, staring at his soul. He was happy that he had been accepted into a squad, but he was terrified of the Captain, and he definitely was not ready to meet him. He caught his father’s eyes, who seemed just as surprised as him. ‘Should I go?’ he mouthed, moving to stand. Ukitake held his hand up for him to stay. “Come in, Byakuya,” he called. 

The door slid open, revealing a lone young man standing straight-backed in the doorframe. His shiny black hair fell gracefully in his eyes, held together by the light blue hairpieces. He was still in uniform, showing he had just come from his office. He walked in purposefully, first laying his gaze on Arata then on Ukitake.

He smiled kindly up at his visitor. “Little Byakuya, please sit down,” he said, gesturing to one of the cushions. 

“Thank you,” he replied softly, lowering himself slowly, but his eyes never rose to over half-open. I wonder how he sees who he’s fighting, Arata thought. “I trust that you have received your orders by now?” 

Arata found he was having trouble articulating his words. “Y-yes, sir. Thank you for accepting me, sir.” 

Kuchiki nodded. “I expect good things from you. You will bear a lot of weight to maintain your father’s good name.” 

Arata felt that this was meant as encouraging, but he felt a stone settle into the pit of his stomach. _'My father’s good name? He’s a Captain, and not just that, one of the original four! I don’t even have a shikei yet!'_ “Understood, sir.”

Ukitake saw his son’s hands unconsciously fiddling around nervously. “Hey, that’s not very fair,” he said. “Arata should be held up by his own work.” 

“We shall see,” was all he said. He turned his attention away from the Arata. “I would like to speak to you in private.”

Ukitake stayed silent for a moment. “Yes, all right. Arata would you go over to the kitchens and grab us some sweets? I don’t think this will take very long.” 

Arata nodded and got to his feet. As he walked out he couldn’t look away from the back of Captain Kuchiki’s head. _'Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like this?'_ He thought as he closed the door behind him.  
000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
When the door slid shut, Ukitake let out a long sigh. He stared at the young clan leader, straight-backed, hands folded over each other. Never a hair out of place. _'The poor guy never gets to relax.'_

“I only wished to inform you I’m aware of the situation, and of what he is.” There was tense silence, before Ukitake nodded his understanding. “My orders have been to keep him in my squad until he reaches seventh seat. Then he will be transferred somewhere so he can be watched carefully.” He stood to leave, in between facing the captain and the exit. “Does he have any idea what was done to him?”

“No. He’s never been curious about it. He’s only ever tried to figure out what he was before I took him in. He has no reason to suspect any affects. He hasn’t even reached shikai yet.” 

“He’s still young.”

“So are you.”

Kuchiki gave no reply, merely turning to fully face the door, signaling the end if the conversation. 

“Please,” Ukitake said softly, stopping him from departing, “don’t treat him like he’s dangerous. He doesn’t deserve that.” 

“Then he will prove it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	3. first day

Arata walked down the street, looking for the right building. _It has a giant six on the side, why is this so hard to find?!_ He had been to most of the divisions several times, but he had talked to someone- he didn’t even know who- and it had gotten him turned around. He took another right, finally recognizing something, which allowed him to find the right path. 

It was one of the more upscale squad divisions, having the influence of a clan lord. The painting was all even and fresh. All damages were fixed quickly and efficiently. All the buildings looked like they had never been repaired. 

People were trickling in through the wide double entrance. Arata followed into a large room, with a raised platform at the other end. About seven people were standing in a circle, socializing. Eight were standing alone, the other new recruits. Two he recognized from his class. One, a tall intimidating looking man with long blue hair, was unfamiliar to him. Everyone seemed to be avoiding his gaze and keeping their distance, even the squad soldiers. 

Arata was about to go and join the conversation, but a figure entered the room and everyone’s attention was turned to him. An older man with a strange line of black hair was standing with his hand on his hip. He adjusted the large black goggles on his forehead, looking importantly over the meager crowd. A lieutenant’s armband braced around his left forearm. “Alright, line up, newbies in the front!” Everyone moved quickly, except for the blue haired man. He lazily lifted himself off the wall. He gave Arata a loose grin, then walked off to stand in the back. Arata could feel other eyes on him. He made sure he looked confident as he moved to the front. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, another person coming through the entrance, but he could see enough to know that it was Captain Kuchiki.

The lieutenant walked up and stood in the middle of the first row, followed by the Captain. “So, newbie day. I’m Ginjirō Shirogane. Congratulations on making it through the academy. And this obviously, is Captain Kuchiki. His face may not say it, but he’s happy that you’re here.” 

A cold glare was shot at Shirogane, but was ignored. The Captain raised his hand and coughed before speaking. “Congratulations. Seeing as you are the advanced students of this year, you will not be handled as the average soldiers. The purpose of today is to pair you with a senior member to gain a sense of what is to be expected of you. This squad primarily focuses on patrols and investigations in the northern Rukon districts, but there will also be a possibility of tours of the World of the Living further on. All of you have proven up for the tasks. For now, you will be given twenty minutes to talk and socialize amongst yourselves, and at the end, the senior members will choose who they will partner with.” He stepped back, and that seemed to be the end of the instructions. 

Everyone else hesitantly started to form a circle. Arata joined the group and the more social got the ball rolling. He tried to participate just as much as the rest, but the resulting conversation was not something he was well versed in. Soon after five minutes, the one conversation split into two, then those divided to four, and at the end there was only himself, looking around stupidly. He caught the Captain’s gaze, staring unblinking. He felt himself shrink under it. He fumbled around in his brain, thinking about what to do. Finally, he found something to hold onto. The man from before was off to the side, leaning against wall, exactly as he was before. 

Arata walked up to this man, who didn’t notice him until the boy was right in front of him. The man had a strong jaw line and hunched shoulders. His eyes, a deep gold color, were half lidded, making him look extremely bored. He reminded Arata of some of the Shihoin clan members he had met.

The man blinked, looking down at him, and while Arata tried not to stare at the beautiful hair, he couldn’t help confirming his suspicion. “Are you from the Shihoin family?”

The man’s eyes widen in surprise. “How’d you know that?” he asked in a gruff voice.

“I’ve met a few of them,” Arata answered vaguely. He didn’t want to be so open about his family, especially on the first day. _‘People might think I’m trying to get ahead, or bragging.’_ “Apparently I just have an aura that says ‘I want to be the were-form practice dummy.’”

The man laughed loudly, drawing the attention of those around them. “Well, you don’t seem any worse for wear, kid.” 

“I’m not a kid, I’m 17!”

“I’m sure that’s what you told the academy,” the man said dismissively. “Either way, it’s impressive that you got into this squad.”

“Thanks,” Arata said suspiciously. “If you’re a Shihoin why aren’t you in squad two?”

The man shrugged. “I’m not stealthy,” he answered simply. “I’m from a subfamily, so it’s not that big’a deal.”

“I guess,” Arata agreed. Sub-families were usually free of the expected duties affiliated with the house. “What’s your name?” 

“Isuma Shihoin,” he said quietly. “And I would appreciate it if you didn’t grovel or any of that. Like I said, I’m from a lower subfamily, so there isn’t really a need.”

Arata scrunched his nose. “I wasn’t planning on it,” he said. “I’m Arata Ukitake. Are you new?” 

Isuma raised his eyebrows. “These muscles look new to you?”

“Well…” Arata trailed off, seeing that the Captain was moving towards them. Arata stiffened his back, which was straining from the over-corrected posture by the time the captain and the lieutenant were standing in front of them.

The cool grey stare shifted calmly between the two. “Officer Shihoin, I’m afraid I’m not giving you a choice in this. You will be paired with this man.”

“Well, that doesn’t seem very fair,” Isuma drawled. “I thought we got to pick.” 

The Captain’s forehead creased ever so slightly at the rude tone. “I have seen Ukitake and have reviewed his general personality. I believe that he will be a good balance to your… savagery.” Arata’s eyes widened. _Savagery?!_ He scanned the man up and down. _He wouldn’t hand me over to someone who’s going to hurt me… would he? I mean…_ He was pulled from his thought when the Captain address him. “I also expect you to learn much from his experience. You are to be partners from now on. Watch each other well.” He turned without a backwards glance.

Arata stared after him in shock. _Why is everything going at lightning speed?! This morning I woke up expecting group training, now I have a partner?!_ Isuma didn’t seemed bothered by this. He laughed at him, moving off the wall. “Well, that’s that, I guess,” he said. He walked past the stunned boy and towards the exit. Arata gained his mental footing again and followed. As he left he waved to those he had talked to, so that he didn’t seem rude. When he caught sight of their faces, however, they looked at him strangely, like they were afraid for him. They gave half polite, half pitying smiles in return. 

Once they were out in the open air, he couldn’t take tear his gaze off Isuma’s back. As they moved down the streets, he felt his eyes go dry from lack of blinking. _Everyone thinks this guy is going to kill me! He doesn’t even look that scary! But what if that’s just a disguise. He groaned. My first day, and I’m going to end up in a ditch, never to be… ooof!_

Isuma stopped suddenly, making Arata run into his back. It really felt like running into a wall. Arata looked around. They had traveled to an empty practice area, though the tracks in the loose dirt showed that it was not abandoned. Isuma turned his face half-way, staring down at him with terrifying eyes. _Oh, shit! This is where he’s going to do it. He’s not even going to hide my body!_

“Raise your sword,” he ordered. 

Arata blinked, pulling himself out of his hysterical thoughts. “Wha…?”

Isuma snorted. “What a face! Is that what you show to the Clan leaders?” He turned to face Arata. “I said draw your sword. We’re going to fight.” he said as he grabbed his own.

Arata shook his head. _Nice going, dumbass, now he thinks you’re an idiot._ He held his blade out in front of him, as Isuma did the same. The man had an amused spark in his flashing eyes. Arata could see bulging muscles under his uniform. He got the impression that he would have fit in very well in squad eleven. 

The reflected sunlight was the only warning he had that Isuma moved. He barely blocked the head strike, the sharp metal hovered threateningly over his scalp. They stayed perfectly balanced, pushing off each other. Arata’s eyes flicked from his opponent’s face to his own sword, feeling like he was being crushed by the pressure of Isuma’s arms. The metal of the blade felt like it was bending, ready to break at the slightest increase. 

Arata pushed him off and swung, lower than he would have in a real fight, aiming for the knees instead of the chest. Isuma dodged expertly. It established a pattern of attack and evade. Arata felt eyes on him now. He looked over to see a growing crowd, before being blinded by a damaging blow to the side of his face. He staggered back, catching himself before he had to defend. 

“Your daddy’s _the_ Ukitake, right?” Isuma asked calmly when they were close enough. He flicked his wrist to knock Arata’s sword across the dirt, and pointed his blade at his neck. “Must be easy to hang off the coattails of a big name like that.” 

Arata leaned away, his eyes flicking between Isuma’s hard gaze and where his zanpakto lay. His hands were balled into tight fists at the insult. “Hado #1: Sho,” he muttered, forcing Isuma back a few feet. Arata flash stepped to his sword before Isuma could recover. “Sho.” He aimed the spell specifically at Isuma’s shoulder, knocking further off balance.

He returned to appropriate fighting distance, but did not strike. “Sho,” he muttered, placing it on his wrist. At close distance, it was enough to make his sword go flying. “Sho,” at his left foot, so he could not place it down to flash step. “Sho,” at his head, tossing him to the ground.

Isuma stared dazed up at the blade at his throat and up at the boy standing over him. “That was number one,” he stated dumbly.

“Yes,” Arata said carefully, not knowing where this was going.

He stayed silent for a few moments, then burst out laughing. So loud and so long, Arata became concerned.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, pulling his sword away. 

Isuma pushed himself up onto his elbows catching his breath. “You just used Sho, the weakest, most useless Hado in existence, to get me on my back!”

Arata blinked, “Well, yes,” he said. “Got something against Kido?”

“Ha!” Isuma jumped to his feet, and walked over to his sword. “I prefer to work with my arms, and I’m good at it.” He turned back to him, giving Arata the same sly smile. “Let’s stick with what we’re good at, shall we?” 

Arata nodded, trying to bring his breathing back to normal speed, noting that Isuma wasn’t even sweating. Internally, he did not relax until Isuma sheathed his blade, sighing tiredly. He was just relieved that he had come out of this unscathed, but in no way was he convinced that he had won by his own. Isuma had obviously been holding back, but he let his chest swell with slight pride that he was able to surprise his senior. 

“Hey!” Isuma yelled, turning towards the crowd. “You have better things to do. Get on with it!” Slowly the crowd dispersed leaving them a clear path to reach the main road. “Though this was very entertaining, kid, we’ve got work to do.” With that, he headed out, not even making sure he followed.

Arata ran after him. “I’m not a kid!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review if you like, critique if you don't!


	4. Chapter 4

They approached the northern gate quicker than Arata had anticipated. In no time, they were standing in the entrance area. People were waiting around, most heading out to do their own patrols. The wall wasn’t visible now, so there wasn’t a big crowd trying to get through the door, they slipped between the dirt paths of the Rukongia and the clean tiled roads with ease. 

Arata assumed most were from squad six, though it was possible that some from five, thirteen, eleven, and twelve were here as well, considering that their division missions didn’t specifically call for their full attention. He could even see a few fourth division member’s heading out. It was often hard to distinguish between squads, but the medical teams were easy, with their distinct bags slung over their shoulders. Everyone was scurrying around, focused on their own individual task. Arata had seen this many times before, when he would pass by to meet with his playmates in the Rukon. These people always reminded him of working ants-still did-but now he was part of the rush.

“Hey, kid, get your ass in gear!” Isuma shouted. Arata hadn’t noticed that he had slowed his paced, creating a small distance between them. He ran over to catch up. “I hope you don’t space out like that often. Not a very good survival trait.”

“Well, I’ll be sure not to get in your way,” Arata said. 

Isuma snorted. “Come on, kid.”

They stepped over the boundary of the Seireitei, Isuma instantly breaking out into a run, leaving Arata to follow. The residents spared a glance only to move out of the way, too used to having soldiers coming through. 

They flew through the relatively small first district and many others after. Arata knew that the further away one went away from the Seireitei, the more decrepit and dangerous things became. He was surprised when they stopped in what must have been the 16th district. 

“What are we doing here?” he asked.

“We’re here to watch, and wait for something violent to happen,” Isuma answer. Arata scanned around at the vendors and rich housing. _This doesn’t look like a place where a lot of crime happened or hollows came often,_ he thought.

They worked their way into the side streets, until they came to one with no shops or front porches. Isuma looked down to both ends, then jumped with the full force of his muscles, easily clearing the roof of the building and landing neatly. Arata followed suit, stumbling over the shingles.

“You’d think someone as small as you would have more grace,” Isuma said.

“You’re so big, you’d think you would make a hole in the ceiling,” Arata mumbled before he could catch himself. _Shit, that’s not something you say to your superior, Arata!_

Isuma laughed, loud enough to shake the roof. “Well, aren’t you a little spitfire. Not scared of me since you knocked me to the ground?”

Arata rolled his eyes. “I would never dream that I actually beat you,” he said, “you never released your shikei. The only reason I won is because you let me.” 

Isuma snorted, but he seemed impressed with Arata. He walked over to the opposite edge and sat down, letting his feet dangle. Arata knelt beside him, keeping more of a distance so that he wouldn’t fall. They had perched on a house, on the outskirts of the town, giving them a good view, across open plains and farms that surrounded them, and of a seemingly well used traveling road, though very few people were out at the time of day. 

“So what exactly are we doing here?” Arata asked again. 

“Didn’t I already answer that?”

“Yes, but I was hoping for an explanation that makes more sense,” he said, “aren’t we supposed to be fighting hollows?” 

“We have to find them first,” Isuma said. “Besides, it’s not very likely this close to the Seireitei, we’re mostly here to seek out crime. People trying to cause trouble.”

“All right," Arata said slowly, “But aren’t you a seated officer? Shouldn’t we be going somewhere more… dangerous?”

“I’m the tenth seat,” Isuma affirmed, “But you’re an unseated newbie. You have only the field experiences of everyone else who’s made it out of the academy. The hollows that make it into the Soul Society are much more powerful than the ones in those controlled practices you’ve had in the World of the Living. Captain doesn’t want you to die on your first day. Understand?” Arata nodded sullenly, realizing how conceited he must have sounded. “So what we’re going to do is sit here, and if we sense a hollow, we kill it. Push your spiritual pressure as far as it will go and just listen.”

_Not kill,_ Arata thought, _purify._ But didn’t say it out loud. So he let silence drop over them. 

He could understand why Isuma thought that, though. He remembered defeating his first hollow, a year ago. It had been gut wrenching. Physically jarring. The logical part of his brain knew that there wasn’t any harm done to the soul, and that the man would be brought to the Soul Society. But his screams, the blood, his body dissolving… it did feel like killing. What made it worth it, was the knowledge that they didn’t actually die, and that they came here, a place possibly better than where they were. Arata knew that he would never be able to do this if that weren’t true.

“You’re from here, aren’t you?”

Arata jumped slightly, being pulled out of his thoughts. Isuma hadn’t turned his gaze away from the road, his eyes have lidded, looking bored. Arata knew what he meant, almost everyone in the noble families knew about Ukitake’s Rukon child. At least he wasn’t using slurs or insults. “Probably not directly here, but pretty close.”

“How old were you were you when you died?” he asked.

“I can’t remember,” Arata admitted. “I might have been three. I know I was around four when I was taken in.” 

Isuma nodded. “Then it would be useless to ask you about the living world.”

“Well, we’ve all seen a little, from the academy. I don’t know any more than you do.” Arata shifted his position, trying to get circulation back into his legs. “Why do you want to know?” 

“I’ve never been,” Isuma answered simply, “you have, even though you can’t picture it.”

“Right.” The Noble houses were born in Soul society, and the Four Greater Noble clans were new souls, never having been through the reincarnation cycle before. It was one of the reasons they usually had such strong spiritual pressures. “It’s probably not that great,” Arata said dismissively. 

Isuma snorted, but didn’t respond further. 

Arata turned his eyes back to the road, there were more people now, traveling through to different towns and marketplaces. There were large groups with packs and carts. Those, Arata knew, were migrating to different districts. They created a crowd of blurred faces and pale colors, people of all nationalities mixed in, moving with each other, and creating families together. _Death is equal,_ Arata thought. _There’s no truer idiom than that._ Some, mostly the children, took notice of them perched on the roof, excitedly pointing at the strange people. Arata responded, smiling and waving down. Surprisingly, so did Isuma. It was the most animated he had been since they had sat down, but that wasn’t saying much. 

Across the road, in an open patch of green, a soul started to materialize. A big, blurred outline at first, slowly taking the form of a well-built middle aged man, dressed in an evening shirt and nice slacks. He looked around quickly, confused by his surroundings. He ran his fingers through his hair, and tried to get someone to talk to him, explain what was going on, but no one even looked at him.

“Come on,” Isuma groaned, regarding the man. “Why is this guy always late?” 

“Who?” Arata asked, because he couldn’t mean the man here. 

Before Isuma could answer, they heard the sound of a flash step. A shinigami appeared right underneath them. He walked across the street and started talking to the man. From this distance, Arata could not hear what they were saying. The first division was in charge of welcoming in new souls, explaining what has happened. They had figured out a long time ago that if left to brew, many would become angry and start trouble, some had even turned to hollows here.

“That, guy always lets them stew for a few minutes before showing up. The poor bastards.”

“I guess it’s easier to tell people when they see more things with their own eyes,” Arata offered. He could see the man’s face. He had paled, but looked calm. The shinigami, who still had his back to them, held out his hand towards the town, and the two men walked off the main road and into the side street Isuma had used. “He seemed to take it well.”

“Must’ve already known he was dying,” Isuma mumbled. 

There was no more conversation after that. Arata was left with nothing to pay attention to, save the vague feeling of people moving through his spiritual pressure. He watched the sea of people trickle down to nothing, as the sun moved across the sky, slower than usual, at least to him. He had to shift constantly, to help relieve the boredom. Isuma stayed perfectly still, and he didn’t reprimand Arata either, making him feel even more guilty. 

Just as the sun was setting, Isuma finally stretched from his position. Arata was laying down, but shot up when he saw the movement. Isuma turned his gold eyes down to him, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Boring, huh?” Arata nodded once. “The academy makes it sound like it’s all fighting and working for the balance of the worlds and all that good stuff. Well, this is the not so glamorous part of it, waiting around, waiting for shit to happen. Could you do this every day? Sit on this roof for the rest of your career?” He must have looked terrified, because moments later, Isuma burst out laughing, making him jump. “Well, kid, did I fool you? Scare you right out of the military?”

“Wha…?” Arata looked around, half expecting to see other people in on whatever joke was going on. “You mean this was all some crazy test?!”

“Yep,” Isuma said, walking back to the other edge of the roof. Arata followed, dropping to the ground after him. 

“A test of what?” 

“To see if you annoyed me,” he said dismissively, not even bothering to turn around. Arata had to run to catch up with him and see the smirk on his face. “You passed, by the way.” 

“Gee, thanks,” Arata said, scrunching his nose. “So what _does_ happen here?”

“I’ve been given almost free reign over you,” Isuma said. “We handle districts 10-20, and we only go out there when there’s a hollow siting. All other time on duty is spent trying to train you up.” He wrapped his arms around Arata’s shoulders. “I’m going to get a shikei out of you before the year’s out!” 

Arata chuckled. “Good thing we just had New Year’s Day, otherwise I would have to call that a bluff.”

The light embrace turned into a full neck grab. “Don’t underestimate my teaching skills, kid.”

Arata ducked out of it easily. “As long as you stop calling me kid. There’s only one person that’s allowed to say it, and you aren’t him.”

“Whatever you say,” he said, rolling his eyes. They were walking slowly back to the Seireitei, in no rush to report in. Technically, they still had an hour left to do so. 

Halfway there, Arata caught site of a hell butterfly. He expected it to just fly by, but it hovered in front of them, waiting to be acknowledged. Isuma held out his hand and touched it. His eyebrows folded together in confusion. “It’s not responding, must be for you.”

“Why would it be for me?” he asked

“I don’t know, just answer it.”

Arata hesitated, then slowly reached out for the insect. Sure enough, the message started to play out in his mind.

'Report for Captain Kaname Tousen,  
The following teams have returned…'

“AHH!” Arata shouted, jerking his hand away. The butterfly stayed in place.

“What is it?” Isuma asked. 

“A faulty hell butterfly, that’s what,” Arata gasped. “It said it was for the ninth squad captain!”

Isuma’s eyes widened. “Did you hear any of it?” he asked urgently.

Arata stared at him, startled at the tone. “Nothing important,” he said confidently. 

“Good,” he said, taking up brisk walking speed again. Almost leaving Arata in the dust again, before he caught up. 

They made it back to the Seireitei just before the sun completely disappeared. There were more people here now, passing in and out for shift changes or free nights. Isuma stopped suddenly, and Arata almost repeated running into him. 

“Well, this is where I leave you, kid.”

“What?!” Arata asked. “Where are you going?” 

Isuma jerked his thumb back out to the Rukon. “That way. All you have to do is go back to HQ and say that you and me are still alive, okay?” 

“All right,” Arata said, still unsure.

Isuma playfully punched him in the shoulder. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” And before Arata could find anymore out, he flash stepped away, leaving him alone. 

Arata huffed. _My first day has been stranger than I could have imagined._ A flutter of wings caught his attention. The same hell butterfly from before was floating innocently behind him. “You again,” he grumbled. He waved his hand at it, attempting to make it move. “Go away, shoo!” But instead, it tried to land on his flailing fingers, intent on getting its message sent. 

A young man saw what was happening, and walked over to him. “Need some help with that?” he asked.

Arata stopped mid-motion. He looked around at the people staring at him. A blush crept into his cheeks, finally realizing how silly he looked. _Holy shit, I’m fighting an insect._ “I just need it to stop trying to give me a message,” He explained. He looked the man up and down. “You’re from squad 5?”

“Yes,” the man confirmed. “Has it already given you the full message?”

“Well, no, but it’s not for me,” Arata said. “For some reason it thinks I’m Captain Touson.”

The man’s gaze flicked from the butterfly, and back to Arata. “That’s very strange,” he said. He caged his hands around the butterfly and pulled it close to his chest. “I’ll have it looked at.”

“Thanks.” Arata bowed politely and turned away. He found his way back to the sixth command center fairly easy, considering he had not been paying attention for most of the trip away from it. He went into through a side entrance, finding a series of halls, with labels on each of the doors. He worked his way down until he found the captain and Lieutenant’s office. He knocked politely and waited to be recognized.

“Come on in,” the Lieutenant’s voice said. Arata opened the door, coming face to face with him. Even though the space was wide, Lt. Shirogane was right by the entrance, and he was alone, he other-much wider- desk unoccupied. He smiled, and Arata returned the gesture. 

“Sorry to bother you, but Isuma said I needed to tell you I’d come in.”

“Yep, newbie’s come to me so we know you aren’t dead.” He pulled out a piece of paper with names scribbled on it. “Just sign to prove you made it back, then you’re free until tomorrow.” Arata grabbed a brush on his desk and did as instructed. “So what you think of Officer Shihoin? Pretty crazy, isn’t he?”

“Not as much as everyone wanted me to believe,” Arata said, handing the paper back. “He seems very nice. People had me thinking he was going to kill me.” 

“Eh.” Shirogane shrugged his shoulders. “You never know with Isuma. Have a good night.”

“Thank you,” Arata said leaving the room. He made his way out into the night air. He looked around at the empty streets and decided to head back to his room. Putting off unpacking will just backfire. Better to just get it over with. He had been lucky enough to be the odd man out, so he didn’t have a roommate, the barracks rooms were small enough with one person in them. _I’ll probably won’t be so lucky next time. I’ll end up getting someone who snores…_

The sound of many flash steps dragged him out of his thoughts. He instinctively drew his sword. Five very strong spiritual pressure surrounded him. Figures with their faces covered in black clothes appeared, only a few feet away from him. He felt a cold chill pass through his body. _Squad two! What the hell do they want with me?!_ The instinctive flight or fight response kicked in, telling him to move, but he held himself in check, neither would do any good. They were too powerful and he was too weak.

“Arata Ukitake?” the one in front of him asked. 

“Y-yes,” he stuttered out.

The man stepped closer. “You are under suspicion of interfering with a captain’s orders and sabotaging a hell butterfly. Come with us. Peacefully, or there will be more charges.”

Arata blinked several times. “B-b-but I…”

He felt something sharp press against his back. “Drop your sword,” a deep voice growled. He nodded jerkily. It took an immense amount of effort to make his hands release his grip, and he winced when in landed with a loud clank. He heard someone move beside him, but he didn’t dare look to see what was happening. He felt the weight of his sheath disappear from his hip. The cold, frightened feeling increased. Now he was almost completely helpless.

He balked when metal was strapped around one of his wrists. “Is that really necessary?” he asked, relieved that his stuttering had stopped. “You’ve taken my weapon. I’m really not a threat to anyone, let alone five of you.”

The leader looked him up and down. “Very well.” He nodded to the person behind him, and the handcuff vanished. “You will follow behind me, you will have an officer on all sides, so do not try any useless escape attempts.”

“Why would I? I’ve done nothing wrong,” he said, though with the situation becoming increasingly tense, that statement didn’t seem true. 

The leader turned and started off down the street, leaving Arata to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review!


	5. catch and release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I went over this about three times, but I still don't think I'm happy with it. Be prepared for revisions.

Arata sat quietly in his small cell, the furthest away from the bars he could get. He felt the seki seki sucking away at his spiritual pressure, but he wasn’t too worried about that, there would be no permanent damage to him. He had been there for hours, and no one had so much as passed by.

He was just in a holding cell, and he had a clear view of the entrance to the building from his tiny window, but it was late at night, and it seemed the only people who were on duty were the ones that took him in. He didn’t dare to sleep, afraid that something important would happen when he was out. Instead, he let his thoughts swarm around him, trying to sort out what he actually did.

_' Why haven’t they come to talk to me?'_ he thought. _'I didn’t do anything wrong. The butterfly was faulty, they have to know that.'_ He rolled his eyes at himself. _'Of course they don’t, that’s why they took you in. You just have to keep calm and tell them exactly what happened. No stuttering, no sass, just the facts.'_ This was a serious offense, to be taken in by the police, even under suspicion. If they found him guilty, or even if he reacted less than cooperative, he could lose his place in the Court Guard Squads. _And it’s only my first fucking day!_

The whoosh of a flash step came from outside his window. He scrambled to his feet and peered into the night. The moon was almost full giving him lighting to see who it was. His blood ran cold when he did. With his stooped figure, the long white beard and his large walking stick, there was really only one person it could be: General Yamamoto. He walked slowly up the few stairs and into the building, but not before turning in his direction and casting a cold stare right at him. 

Arata shrank away. He had, of course, met the General before. He was his father’s mentor and they were very close. When he and Arata interacted, he was always polite and respectful, but he knew that Yamamoto disapproved of his adoption, had said so outright. _'He has to be here for another reason,'_ he thought frantically, _'there’s no way they would call him for such a trivial thing as this.'_ But no matter how he convinced himself, the ice in the pit of his stomach never went away.

Another person arrived, two people, he realized when he actually looked, and they did nothing to settle his dread. One of them was Captain Kuchiki, and the other was the blind Captain Tousen. They walked together through the entrance. _Okay, there’s no way that’s a coincidence. That was three captains, in one area. That was never a good thing._

He was left in silence for a while more, long enough for the moon to disappear from his view, before he heard soft footsteps come down the hallway. He forgot to breathe for a moment, the forced his lungs to take in a few gulps. _Just tell them what happened, and nothing else,_ he reminded himself. A generic guard came and unlocked the door. “Follow me,” he ordered. Arata nodded and fell in step behind the man. He was led down several hallways and one flight of stairs to an unmarked door. He held it open and stepped inside. He froze in the door way, I should stop being surprised today. Inside was the fourth captain he had seen. Captain Soi Fon, her small feet propped up onto the table in the middle of the room. She looked calm and collected, a slight smirk on her pixie-like face.

He was pushed inside as the door slammed shut behind him. He took the two small steps needed to sit in the only other chair. She looked him up and down impishly, like a cat examining a mouse. They sat in silence for the longest minutes of Arata’s life. 

Finally, she spoke. “This is not how I would like to be spending my night,” she remarked casually.

Arata thought carefully before answer. “Nor me, ma’am.”

“Then I will have no problem getting straight answers out of you.”

“No, ma’am.” 

She smiled, but had no pleasure in it. “You are under suspicion of interfering with a captain’s duty. Do you know why?”

“I turned in the broken hell butterfly,” Arata offered quietly. 

“It’s been checked thoroughly. It wasn’t faulty,” she said. He felt his eyes widen. He searched her face for any giveaway to what she was thinking. There was none, she’d trained too well. “So the problem was you. We just need to determine if this was unintentional or deliberate.” She pressed her fingertips together. “Keep in mind, this was an impairment on a captain’s orders, so it’s being handled by captain class exclusively. General Yamamoto is listening in another room, as well as Captains Kuchiki and Tousen.”

Arata took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself again. “I know that I didn’t purposefully sabotage the message. So what can I do to prove it to you?”

She shifted her position, placing her elbows on the tabletop and resting her head on her hands. “Then tell me what happened with the hell butterfly.” Arata recounted the events, trying to get as many details as he could give. Her expression never changed, nor did she give any indication as to what she was thinking. 

There was a long pause after he had finished. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily, putting on a weary look. Arata knew it was an act. The only time Soi Fon showed any kind of emotion (other than anger) it was to throw people off, to make them show her something they wouldn’t normally. “Is there anyone that can verify this story?”

Arata resisted scrunching his nose at the word ‘story.’ “I was with my assigned senior partner, Isuma Shihoin. He saw everything up until the fifth division member took the butterfly away.”

“But he wasn’t with you when you checked in with your lieutenant, where did he go?”

“I don’t know,” Arata admitted. “When we got back, he just ran off into the districts.”

“And you didn’t think this was odd?”

“Yes, but I didn’t have any reason to stop him, for all I know he does that every day. No one seemed to think it was odd for me to return alone, so I didn’t think too much on it.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll send for him to confirm what you say. In the meantime, have you had any previous contact with Captain Tousen?”

Arata blinked at her, not sure how he should answer. She knew he had met all the captains in the 13 court guard squads, at least in passing. “The last time I saw Captain Tousen was at our family’s spring gathering, about three years ago. We spoke for about five minutes,” he said honestly. “If I remember correctly, ma’am, it was one of the few years you attended.”

“Not the point, Ukitake,” She growled, narrowing her eyes.

He consciously swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have nothing else to ask you,” she sighed. “Personally, I just think you were in the wrong situation, and were stupid enough to think nothing of it.” She hit the wall with the back of her fist. ”You aren’t going home until my men are able to find Shihoin.” Moments later the guardsman opened the door and held it open for him “Take him back to his cell.” Arata bowed respectfully, and left the room without complaint. 

The guard walked back down the hallway. A door down the other way opened behind them. Arata turned on instinct, eyes widening at the sight. The Captains that had been called were filling out into the space. They all turned away and headed in the opposite direction, but for a brief moment, Captain Tousen looked into his eyes. Even though Arata knew that the man was blind, it was still chilling. 

The guard pulled him by his forearm when he didn’t move quick enough. “Come on,” he growled. He was escorted to the same cell as before. The loud bang of the door closing was emphasized by the intense silence. He took up his previous position, facing the bars. His eyes started to drift closed and he wondered what time it was. _It can’t be that late, I shouldn’t be this tired…_

He jerked his head up suddenly, unaware of when he had lowered it in the first place. The cell is darker than he remembered it a moment ago. Must have fallen asleep… He looks up through the little corner he could see of the window. The moon had drifted behind the building, taking the light with it, telling him that he had been out for a long time 

Arata shifted back and forth, the floor suddenly feeling more uncomfortable. No one had come by, not even to give him an update, let alone set him free. It didn’t look like he was getting out of this tonight. He stretched his body down on the cold floor, pillowing his head on his arm, trying to settle back down and wake up when things were better. It was surprisingly easy, and suddenly he was fighting to stay awake. The room was starting to get blurry. His body wouldn’t move on his command, and everything feeling heavier. 

_This is…weird._ He thought slowly. He tried to push himself up, but only accomplished dragging his arm out. He felt like he was dreaming, but was still super aware of his senses. He heard the door opening like it was far away, but he could feel it vibrating the floor. _This… has to be a… dream…_

Footsteps trended softly towards him. All he could see was the standard issue footwear and the ends of black pants and… the tips of a Captains Haori. He crouched down onto his hunches. “Couldn’t last one day, could you brat?”

Arata wanted to gasp, but his breathing was stubbornly even. That voice haunted him in his life. Kurotsuchi! He strained to get control, knowing that he would be in a panic if he could help it. Cold calloused hands pushed at his shoulder until he was lying flat on his back. His gaze stayed center, starring at the ceiling. The man hunched over him- if he could be called a man- leaned over close enough that his breath blasted onto his face. The man’s white fingers pinched at his left eyelid, opening them wider as he brought out a circular device with three small support stalks. The feet slipped in to rest directly on his eyes. The machine whirled to life, lowering right into the middle into his pupil. 

Arata wanted to scream. It burned. Like a wild flame spreading further, but worse was the tearing sensation of something being ripped out of him. Kurotsuchi never moved directly in his line of sight. The man took the opportunity to examine other parts of him. Cold jabs of fingers moved meticulously down his body, and Arata would have given anything to stop it. 

Pain shot lower, like something sharp was moving into his brain, so unexpectedly that he lost consciousness.  
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
He jerked up, his hand clutching at his eye while looking frantically for his literal nightmare. He moved himself into the corner before his surroundings registered. Daylight shown through the window, but not enough that it was late. Kurotsuchi was gone, but the room wasn’t empty. He was wrapped in a familiar pink robe. In the opposite corner, the man it belonged to sat cross-legged casually. His half-lidded eyes were focused on him, concerned about what was happening. 

“Uncle Shunsui?” He asked, like he couldn’t believe he was here.

He gave a signature lazy smile. “Hey, Kid.” He stretched slowly off the wall. “How you doing?” 

Arata forced his breathing to calm. He scooted closer so that he was sitting next to Shunsui. “In a jail cell.”

“Yeah, I see,” he said. “I thought you could use the company.”

“You mean you thought this was a good excuse to hide from Nanao.”

He laughed, “Nothing gets past you.” He reached over and ruffled his hair. ”You’ve got your father in a spin. Last I checked he was pacing Old man’s office.”

Arata groaned. “I didn’t want him to worry.”

“Well, tough luck, Kid. Soi-Fon has guards specifically so that he doesn’t come here.”

Arata raised his eyebrows. “And they let you in?”

“Well, you know, those guys follow their orders to the letter.” They fell into a comfortable silence for a while. “What were you panicking about before? Bad dream?”

Arata shook his head. “Kurot… _Captain_ Kurotsuchi was here. He paralyzed me and pushed something in my eye and I passed out…”

Shunsui’s face scrunched up. “He wasn’t here. I checked with who was involved with what’s going on. There were _a lot_ of Captains on the list,” he emphasized, “but Kurotsuchi wasn’t one of them.” 

Arata touched his eye again. “But... Are you sure? Maybe he snuck in. It felt so real.” _And it’s not like I willingly think of him. Ever._

“You think that anyone could sneak around here? With all the Captains coming and going?” Shunsui asked. “I doubt he’s capable of it.” 

Arata wasn't calmed by this. “Then what….?” he asked again, letting his hand drop limply into his lap.

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Shunsui said dismissively. “He’s always in your nightmares.”

“Not for a long time,” he mumbled. He had been eleven when he last bothered with nightmares of cruel experiments.

Shunsui shrugged. “The cold floor stressed you out. You’ve been through a roller coaster in a span of one day. Not the best environment for restful sleep.”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding more convinced. “You’re right.” He curled up closer to his uncle. “What’s been happening? Do I still have a job?” 

“As far as I know,” Shunsui answered. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if Little Byakuya takes you out back and tries to beat a shikei out of you.”

“What about Isuma?” Arata asked. “Did they ever find him?” Shunsui looked confused, so Arata clarified, “Officer Shihoin?” 

“Oh, him. No, last I checked, they were still looking for him, but I’ve been here a few hours.” 

Arata groaned. _It figures that I have an unreliable superior!_

“Ah, calm down, kid. This isn’t the end of the world,” Shunsui said, slapping on his shoulder. “Did I tell you what Nanao did to me when we were practicing our petal entrance?”

“Oh, gods, you weren’t serious about that were you?” Arata moaned. “Poor Nanao…”

Shunsui continued on—trying to distract him, he realized—for hours. It passed the time at least, until halfway through the day a guard approached the cell door and finally, finally, unlocked it. 

“Well, look at that,” Shunsui said as Arata darted out into the hallway, leaving the kimono lying on the ground. “Told you things would be all right.”

The guard offered no explanations, and Arata didn’t ask. He turned back around to see that Shunsui hadn’t moved. “You aren’t coming with me?” he asked. 

He waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, I think I’ll hang around here for the rest of the day.”

Turquoise eyes rolled. “You know if I see her, I won’t hold back where you’ve been hiding,” he said as he walked away. 

“As expected!” was called back. 

The guard took him to the entrance of the building, and basically pushed him out the door. “Don’t cause any more problems,” he ordered before briskly walking back inside. 

“Thank you,” Arata muttered to the air, straightening up. The courtyard was empty, except for a single figure leaning against the wall, with the striking light blue hair. Isuma caught sight of him and sauntered over, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Getting in trouble on your first day? Congratulations.” 

“You!” Arata shouted, pointing. “Where have you been?”

“I’ve been waiting for you, brat,” Isuma said coolly. “You’re the one who’s late.” 

“If you had been where someone could find you,” Arata fumed, “I wouldn’t have been in there so long!” 

Isuma rolled his eyes, “Just come on, I had a half a day’s training you go down the shit hole, let’s get out of here.” 

“Fine,” Arata grumbled, following him when he started walking away. “But where did you go, so people can drag you back if this happens again.”

Isuma smirked, ruffling his greasy white hair. “I’ll tell you when you’re older,” he said sarcastically. 

“You really have no right to make age jokes at me.”

“Then either stop me, or don’t complain.” 

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 

Shunsui waited until he was sure Arata was heading back to his division before he moved. He heaved himself off the dirty floor and lazily picked up his kimono. He didn’t pass anyone as he maneuvered his way through the halls until he found a window big enough for him to fit through. Making sure no one could sense his presence, he sprinted out over the building tops. A short while later, he landed neatly on the roof of his destination and crouched down, waiting for the street to empty. What he was doing… he didn’t need a whole lot of people seeing. 

He jumped down when the cost was clear, and walked through the front door. The three people in the room straightened their backs at the sight of him. He approached on, a young man with horns in his pale forehead. “Take me to Kurotsuchi, if you’d be so kind.” 

The man nodded, leaving his station. The girl working next to him looked concerned, but the man waved his hand at her. “Of course, Captain. Please follow me.” He took him down a single hallway, and to a featureless door. “It may be a futile favor to ask, but could you not tell him I was the one who took you here?”

Shunsui smirked, despite his foul mood. “Sure.” The man nodded gratefully and went back to his station. Shunsui pushed the door open, into a darkened room, the only light came from the computer monitors. He marched over to the hunched over figure, who hadn’t even bothered to turn around. 

He jerked him in his chair to face him. Cool grey eyes stared back at him. That just made him squeeze the mechanical shoulder. “You left him conscious,” he growled out.

The bastard had the audacity to grin. “Interesting,” he wheezed. 

Shunsui pushed him back all the way in his seat. “You were ordered to make him unaware. He felt everything!”

“I assure you, Captain,” Kurotsuchi said. “It was not my fault. I gave him the strongest paralytic I had, any more would have risked brain damage. I highly doubt either you or Ukitake wanted that.”

“And you’re just the saintly benefactor,” Shunsui said sarcastically. “Don’t act like you aren’t invested.” 

Kurotsuchi snorted. “I’m conducting an experiment. You’re mistake is viewing this as raising a child.” 

Shunsui’s grip tightens. “Just remember to keep your distance. If you come near him without permission from Old Man. I’ll make you use all this tech to regenerate your body.” He spun on his heels and made to leave before he lost control.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he heard behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review if you like, critique if you don't!


	6. Chapter 6

_Two months later_

Arata scrunched his nose at the blade sticking up from the ground. It was staying irritatingly silent, and not transforming like he wanted. There hadn’t been any breakthroughs like Isuma bragged about, except the ones in his skin. Isuma had been taking every free day to pound him into the dirt, when there wasn’t a call to fight hollows, which didn’t happen as often as expected.

What had happened were the physical changes he noticed. His muscles were filling out more, Isuma pushed him far more than the academy had. He was getting much better at actually using his sword. He had cut his hair shorter, having been at the bad end of a grapple to keep it the same length. He couldn’t bring himself to shave it all off, so it laid flat against his neck and over his ears.

He snuck a glance behind him. Isuma appeared to be asleep but he had been conked on the head too many times to relax during ‘nap time.’

There were these nagging feelings at the edge of his mind, they flicked away like shadows when he tried to grab them. Sometimes, he got the idea has was being laughed at. Other times, he thought eyes were watching him. It broke his concentration when he had to look over his shoulder.

He sighed. Try as he might to focus on the sword in front of him, his mind was beginning to wander away, and it was happening more frequently as the days went on. He had the entire piece memorized. The well-worn cloth zig-zaging across the handle, the chaffed metal at the point where the sheath hugged too tight. All the new dents and scratches were scattered up the blade. To be honest, Arata liked the additions, it gave the impression that he was actually doing something useful, instead of just wasting time staring at an unresponsive sword.

_'You want to learn?'_

Arata started at the voice. He looked around, seeing no one else but Isuma, still asleep. The voice was high pitched, but not a woman’s voice. It was like someone was trying to scratch against something. He slowly turned his gaze back in front of him, taking in the sword more intently. “Yes.”

 _'Then get your ass in gear and hang on tight!'_ He felt a phantom push against his back. He closed his eyes on reflex, feeling like he was falling farther than he should.

He gazed into a blazing light. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision, he focused on the orange sky. Glowing ash drifted down around him, like snowflakes. The ground was rough beneath his feet, bark was poking into his skin, but he didn’t feel pain. He looked out onto the horizon, where it looked like the sun was setting, but his eyes widened at the site. The land he was on only ended twenty feet away from him on either side. In front of him it seemed to stretch for miles ending in what looked like a green forest. Behind him, the ground peeled away in long looping tendrils, almost like…

 _Roots,_ he thought suddenly, he turned back to the ‘forest’ noting that the greenery wrapped to the underside, _this is a tree!_ His ears rang with the sound of his thoughts. They echoed out loud, but of course this was a place in his mind in the first place.

It didn’t look like anyone was around him. “All right! I got in here like you wanted, now what?” He heard an eerie laugh all around. Arata was getting annoyed by this stupid act. “Yeah, I get it, you can throw your voice, very clever. But do you think you could come out and see you?”

“That will do you no good,” a deep voice rang behind him. Arata turned slowly trying to prepare for whatever was behind him.

A large strong man stood behind him, he was only dress in grey fur pelts and spiked armor. His hair was of the same color, trailing down his back. A black band was tied over his eyes, the ends trailed down across his chest. Arata thought he was either blind or extremely confident in his abilities.

“That man doesn’t take kindly to orders,” he explained, completely different from the harsh nasal one from before.

This isn’t the same voice I heard out there, so… “There are two of you?”

“There are many of us,” he said, stunning Arata.

“But that’s impossible! Having two spirits is miraculously rare!” _and there were only a hand full of people who could claim that much._

“Nothing is impossible here,” the man rumbled. He shifted slightly moving his hands in front of him. In a flash of light, a spear appeared. Two blades were tied to both ends, the edges jagged and clear, like an icicle.

Arata reached around for his sword, but his fingers wrapped around air. He looked around frantically but it wasn’t anywhere around him.

“You search in vain, survivor. This is what you want.” He pointed the spear at him. “And if you wish to use us, you will have to take it from me.”

Arata raised his fists in defense, sizing up his opponent. _I won’t be able to overpower him; he’s twice my size. I’ll have to be quicker. He’d never seen a weapon like this one, much less fought against one. I doubt I’ll have an advantage because of his eyes. Captain Tousen is enough proof of that._ He winced as he head his thoughts echo back at him. _Shit, forgot about that._

The man chuckled shortly. “There is no reason for me to attack you. I am perfectly content to stand here for the rest of my life,” the man said.

“I don’t attack first,” Arata said, standing his ground. “Only dishonorable men attack those unaware.”

“I will not move from this spot, until you make me.”

Arata huffed. “Fine.” He sat himself down where he was, folding his legs under him. The man seemed to be determined, but Arata was sure he could out last him.

There was another phantom laugh resonating behind him again. Arata glared over his shoulder. “Who is that?” He asked, mostly to himself.

“He is the one you will encounter next,” the man answered him, “He is actually standing right behind you, but you lack the power to see him.”

Arata scrunched his nose at the news. “He doesn’t seem like someone I would enjoy meeting,” he said, hoping the annoying person heard him.

To his surprise, the old man smiled. “I would not pass judgment on him just yet. There is no telling what might come.”

Arata smirked. “But you don’t like him, do you?” the man was silent, so Arata took this as truth.

They sat in silence from then on. Arata was sure many hours passed, but the orange sun didn’t move at all, it was hard to tell whether he was right or not. Arata began to fidget under the weight of boredom. This… stillness was odd. He had expected unrelenting violence, from what he had heard, was quiet common. Isuma took pleasure in telling him horror stories about his first encounters, showing him scares. It was obvious these weren’t from his zanpakuto, but frightening nonetheless. The straightforwardness of the task was also surprising. It didn’t seem like a challenge, more like a standoff.

“I said I will not attack first,” Arata reiterated. “Can’t you just come at me and get it over with?”

“I have no reason to attack you,” he said. “You seek what I have. We will sit here until you exhaust yourself.”

“I can’t attack you, you haven’t done anything to me,” Arata huffed. “Besides, you’re the reflection of me, how can you ask this of me when you know what this means to me.”

The man shifted his head to the side. “I am not a reflection of you, I am you. One of many parts, fractured and spilt to control the power we share.”

This piqued Arata’s interests, but he decided to focus on one topic at a time. He rolled his eyes. “Either way. You know I think it’s dishonorable to attack first. It is a characteristic of a hollow.”

“Honor does not matter to us, only your survival.”

 _He keeps shifting between 'I’ and ‘us,’_ Arata thought, _maybe the ‘others’ he mentioned are watching as well._

“You may be concerned with my survival,” he argued, “but I have more important things that I have to worry about. I have to be better than the average soldier.”

“You have seen many honorable, powerful men and women deal the first strike. No one judges them for it.”

“I’ve also seen the detached coldness in them,” he said. “It’s not something I’m looking forward to.”

“I know,” the man rumbled. “This is an honorable way to fight, but it is foolish. You’re goal whilst fighting is to win, to survive. To wait for an enemy to attack first gives the enemy time to take advantage. You are concerned that you will become desensitized to battle. ” Arata expected him to continue, but the man fell silent.

“And… Anything to add to that?”

“There is no guarantee this will not happen,” the man said reluctantly, “You do not wish it to happen, and that is all anyone can do. Now,” the man rose from his seat, holding his weapon out again. “Your time is almost up. Are you going to waste it talking?”

Arata chuckled, pulling himself to his feet. “Don’t like wasting time,” he agreed. He resumed his defensive stance, slowly shortening the space between them. He had never gone against this type of weapon before. When he started to circle him, the man stayed in place, but his head turned to face him proving his assumption. His place was to move quickly and grab before he could react.

Wiping his mind of any thoughts that might give him away, he charged.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

He gasped for air as he held the spear triumphantly in front of him. The man’s head was turned towards him, but it was impossible to tell if he was being studied. “I did promise you our name,” he said, like he almost regretted it. “Our name is Kisetsu no Utsurikaewari. Say this proudly, so you may become one with me.”

“Kisetsu no Utsurikaewari,” he repeated, feeling the weapon thrum with the words. “Shift, Kisetsu no Utsurikaewari!”

The man nodded. “I am Hondr, use this piece well and keep us alive.”

A sharp hit rang through his head, throwing him out of his own world and into reality. He whipped around to glare at Isuma, trying to rub the pain away. “What the hell?!”

 

“You’ve been sitting there all day!” Isuma shouted, “and I thought you’d want to see this before you pass out.” He jabbed his finger out in front of him. Stuck in the ground in front of him, was the spear that had been trying to kill him. The ground around it was frozen, something that was glad hadn’t happened in his mind.

He reached out tentatively, afraid it would dissolve before he could hold it. The wood felt smooth under his fingertips. He felt Isuma’s gaze as he lifted himself off the ground, pulling the blade out of the ground. It felt odd in his hands, no give to the grip and the weight oddly distributed.

“It looks good,” Isuma said, standing back and examining him. “I know some people who have spear shekei. It takes a long while to get accustomed to the fighting style, but they get pretty bad ass.”

Arata was still entranced by the thing in his hands. There was something different from his inner world. It took him a moment to remember the engravings that he had admired. “I think something’s missing. There were metal berries all along the pole, and they aren’t here now.”

Isuma narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Maybe it’s like a power you aren’t ready for or something,” he smiled widely. “I bet you got a huge power center hiding away in there and you’re going to be a big bad ass officer one day!”

Arata rolled his eyes, “I didn’t think your victory high would hit this soon,” he cut off his spiritual pressure, changing the weapon back into a sword. “You were right, I did it in less than a year.

“Yeah,” Isuma said, clasping him on the back, steering him out of the practice field and into the street. “You owe me a drink.”

Arata ducked out of his grip. “I don’t remember it being a bet.”

“Well isn’t that some appreciation for ya,” Isuma shouted over-exaggeratedly. “It’s the least you can do for all the help I’ve given.”

“Well, from the looks of things, I’ll be able to cool you off when summer comes around.”

“Always pegged you for an ice type,” Isuma said, falling step with him. “There’s nothing else you could be with this ridiculously white hair.” He grabbed a tufted and tugged at it.

Arata elbowed him in the ribs. “Like you’re one to talk, blueberry!” He expected a smack retort, but all he heard was a sharp hiss. He looked behind him to see his partner clutching his side with a pained expression stitched on his face.

He stepped towards him, reaching out to help. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I hit that hard!”

“You didn’t,” he groaned.

Arata brushed his hands away from the wound with surprising ease. He touched the skin gently, feeling the alarming bumps. “Isuma, you’re ribs are broken.”

“Wow, kid, you could be a medic,” he hissed. “I knew that.”

“Well, were you planning on explaining how they got broken?!”

Isuma pushed him away. “Bar fight,” he answered. “You should see the other guys.”

“Really?” Arata asked, not convinced. “This is too small to be made by a fist.”

“One of them had a knife,” Isuma snapped. “It’s not a big deal, kid, it’ll heal in a couple of days.”

“If you went to the fourth, it would be gone by tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Isuma sneered. “And then I’d have to tell them how I got it. And that is just plain embarrassing.” He started to walk off. “Come on, kid. We’ve got some celebrating to do.”

“Isuma…”

He sighed, fixing the full presence of his golden eyes. Arata hadn’t seen them so serious outside of battle. “Just drop it Arata,” he pleaded. “I can’t let my rep get thrown down by some stupid drunk fucker that got a lucky shot on me.”

Arata stared at him, trying to decide what to do. _He’s lying to me,_ he thought, making a lump form in his stomach. _This almost definitely has something to do with when he disappears to. But I won’t be successful in prying it out of him._ Arata sighed. _I’m just going to have to trust him._

He stepped up to him, until they were a few inches apart. Isuma was tense, like he expected an attack, his fists were clenched at his side. There was a moment that Arata stayed silent letting his answer mull around in his head. I have to trust him. “You got them all?”

Isuma released a held in breath and his hands relaxed. “Yeah, they won’t be walking around today.”

Arata smiled. “Well then maybe we should go to a different bar, wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

The blue haired man laughed hardily, “Now that’s an idea I could get on board with!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and comments would be lovely.


	7. Chapter 7

“Well,” Isuma said, wiping his blade off. “That was a piece of cake.” 

Arata rolled his eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You didn’t get sprayed with… this!” He pulled his cloths away from his chest, prying the sticky green mucus away from his skin. Thankfully this time, it was odorless.

“Ah, you know that stuff washes out. No need to get your panties in a twist. Sheesh!” He flipped a stray hair back into place before sheathing his sword. “We’re done early, wanna mosey back?”

Arata looked at the sun. There was still much of the day left, and he didn’t have to be at his father’s home until later that night. “Sure, why not?”

They walked down the main street, the people basically ignoring them. Visits from the Soul Reapers were all too common in the thirties. Isuma seemed to be checking out the all the stalls, lingering at the ones selling jewelry or fine pieces of clothing. Arata ground his teeth when he just passed over, not buying anything. “What are you looking for?” he asked, what felt like after the fifth stop.

“Got a hot date tonight,” Isuma said. “Just getting her something shiny.”

Arata rolled his eyes. “You don’t give a gift on the first date. Even I know that.”

“Well, it’s her birthday,” he said looking over a green beaded necklace, “and she’s spending it with poor old me. That deserves a present.”

“Truly,” Arata agreed. “Who is she?”

“A Lieutenant,” he said smugly, picking up a bright orange scarf. “Her names Rangiku.”

Arata’s eyes widened. “How did you pull that off? I’ve met her, and I thought she was involved with Captain Ichimaru.”

“I thought so too, but It turns out they aren’t monogamous, so for tonight, It’s me and her.” He handed the money to the shop keeper and pocketed his prize. “And I plan on being a complete gentleman.”

“Or you’re going to find yourself on the short end of a knife,” Arata muttered.

Isuma ignored his comment. “What about you? I’ve never seen you running off for some love under the stars.”

“Do people actually say that?” Arata asked, half in an attempt to distract his partner.

“They do now,” he replied. “So no special girl?”

Arata thought about his words carefully. “No… I’m not that interested in dating, I guess.”

Isuma raised a blue eyebrow. “You’re a fifteen-year-old male…”

“Seventeen!”

“…in the prime of your youth, and you’re telling me you ‘aren’t interested?’”

Arata shrugged. “I tried in the academy. It didn’t seem to work out very well,” he made a point not to avoid Isuma’s eye. “And you’ve seen to it that I’ve stayed busy since then.”

Isuma smirked. “You’re missing out. There was this one girl who let me get her top off when I told her I was a soldier. She wasn’t even drunk!”

“That poor girl,” Arata commented dryly, already getting uncomfortable with where this was going. Isuma continue with similar stories until they reached the walls, by then the sun was drifting behind the nearby houses. Arata had kept his part of the conversation to a minimal, but not to the point where he would make Isuma uncomfortable.

“I have to meet with my father, could you sign me out, tonight?” Arata asked.

Isuma waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, sure. Go do your family thing. If Captain gives me grief I’ll just have ya freeze his girly petals.”

“Please don’t,” Arata called, but the man was already heading out. As soon as he was sure he was alone, he let himself heave a sigh of relief. He wrapped his arms around his chest defensively, allowing his discomfort to show visibly.

Talking about sex and women was practically a constant when kept in a dorm full of loud out-spoken men. The mental images they described where-according to first-hand accounts- supposed to make one feel pleasurable, but they only succeeded in making Arata’s skin crawl and his stomach churn. At first, Arata had left the room to get away from it, but after several instances that involved being backed into a corner, he learned how to put on a brave face and play along at least for a little while. And when asked to participate, he would have to make up stories that only barely held up to expectations. He avoided being alone with them It made it hard sometimes to find a quiet place to bath.. 

Arata had known that he didn’t like kissing since he was ten, when one of his ‘cousins’ came to visit, and they were both curious. His father never failed to remind him what was said as his ten-year-old self stomped back into the house. ‘Girls don’t taste good, I’m glad we don’t have any living here.’ He learned from other people that this feeling was supposed to go away when he was older, but he had tested this every year of his life, with the last attempt, in the academy, ending in a disaster.

Her name was Suki. She was in the advanced classes with him, and she had seemed like a compassionate person. He managed to make a relationship last six months. They got along great, and Arata considered her a close friend, but eventually she got frustrated with the lack of physical contact, he got frustrated when she put pressure on him to do so, and the resulting argument ended with her storming off and never speaking to him again.

The loss of her friendship had hit him hard, and even though it had been two years ago, he wasn’t ready to try it again. He wasn’t sure if he would ever do so. The thought was terrifying and he was honestly content to not have to go through that again. He walked through the gate of his father’s house almost unaware that he was passing someone on his way, until he was stopped by a hand to his chest.

“What? I don’t get a hello?”

Arata quickly looked up into the face of his uncle. He smiled on instinct, feeling his mood lighten instantly. “Hello, Uncle Shunsui. Can you ever forgive me?”

Shunsui pretended to think it over. “Only time can heal such wounds,” he said, clasping him on the back. “What were you thinking about?”

“Oh, just remembering the academy,” he said, purposely being vague.

“Ha! Fun.” They started walking back up to the front doors of the house. “Aren’t you a bit early for dinner?”

“Yeah… but I’ve kind of been sprayed with some hollow snot, and I’d rather have a shower before sitting on all that fancy furniture.” He picked at the ends of his uniform, which had dried and crusted to him awkwardly. The housekeeper opened the door for them when they reached the entrance.

“Hello, Captain Kyourako, Arata,” she greeted, bowing politely.

“Hello, Miss Chiyo.”

“He is in his office,” she told them, “Shall I take you to the parlor?”

“Actually, is the bathing room open?” Arata asked.

“Of course, I’ll have Azumi prepare it for you….”

“Oh, uh, I can get it by myself,” he interrupted. “I’d hate to trouble her.” He slipped down the hall before she could protest, like she often had in the past. The bathing room was small, with few decorations except those needed for washing. The tub was more like a curved hole carved into the floor, made to comfortably fit a human lying down. He turned the water on and waited a short while for it to heat up. He decided to add a few of the bath salts stored on the shelves. It was one of the things he had missed about living here. He hadn’t been able to afford them on his wages, and he refused to ask for them from his father.

He had not missed, however, Chiyo puttering about him and focusing her attention on him. He had never complained before going to the academy, but after coming back for the first couple of days, it had made him uncomfortable when the sweet old woman would go and do things that he himself were perfectly capable of doing. There weren’t a lot of people working in the house, and they’re main concern was to look after Jushiro’s health. Arata felt it was his duty to make as little work for them as possible.

He made sure to take his time, soaking in the relaxing water for as long as he was able. Shunsui and his father liked to play games while they talked, and wanted them to have whatever time they needed. It had also put him in a better mood. By the time he grabbed his clothes, it was almost dark.

He found them in the dining room, with the garden doors opened to let in the cool night air. They turned away from their game at his entrance. Arata noted that his father looked paler than he should, with a bit of flush to his cheeks. He tried not to let his worry show.

“Who’s winning?” he asked, sitting down between them.

Shunsui groaned and leaned dejectedly against the game board. “It’s a hopeless battle, He’s killing me.”

Ukitake smiled sweetly. “He made a vital mistake early on and hasn’t been able to recover,” he explained.

“Ohhhh.” He looked down at the round pieces scattered over the table. They were playing Go, and the white pieces were suffocating the black. “Yeah, you might as well surrender now.”

“Never!” he shouted dramatically, getting a laugh from his audience. The game was over in another five moves.

“Ah! Defeat is so bitter!” Shunsui lamented. He relaxed into his cushion as Azumi cleared away the board. He caught her wrist, “No tears for me tragic end, sweet one?”

Azumi giggled, used to Shunsui’s antics. “You have no one to blame but yourself, Captain,” she said, pulling away. “Will you want dinner in here, sir?”

“Yes, everything’s set up here anyway,” Ukitake said.

“Don’t bother getting a place for me,” Shunsui said, getting up. “Jushiro and Arata need to have some father son time.”

“Awwww,” Arata whined, “am I in trouble?”

Ukitake pushed him playfully. “Do you need to be?”

“Of course not, I’ve been the perfect soldier.”

“Hmph,” Shunsui snorted. “Sounds like both of you have a handful.” He turned to leave through the open garden doors. “Have a good night.” And he was gone before they could respond.

“Is it me, or was he in a rush?” Arata asked settling in to the vacated seat. Chiyo and Azumi came in with the food and tea. Arata was hungry now, and grabbed one of the bowls of heated broth. Ukitake followed suit by sipping his own tea. As he brought it to his lips, Arata caught the strong smell of peppermint.

“No, he knows why I called you here,” he said, putting his cup back down ominously.

“I figured,” Arata said. His father pulled out a scroll and handing it to him. He tentatively unrolled it, revealing the letter.

_Arata Ukitake,_

_It is the wish of the High Noble Kuchiki family and the Central 46 that you attend the summer gathering of the Noble Families, which will take place on the 15 of May._  


_With wishes of good fortune,_

_Byakuya Kuchiki_  
_Head of the High Noble Kuchiki Clan_  
Arata sighed, placing the paper back down on the table. He hated going to these gatherings. He had been able to escape them while he was in the academy, but it appeared to be short lived. They weren’t parties where people went because they had to, they were more like personality reviews by the Central 46. Arata knew that most of the nobles went through the same thing, and almost no one looked forward to it, but he had always felt the officials focused in him. They asked him strange and sometimes invading questions,and the look in their eyes always made him feel like they were prepared for the worst.

“Are you sure I have to go?”

“I’m afraid so,” Ukitake said, “I’ve had pressure from them to have you attend one since you graduated. If you don’t, I fear they will be very angry with us.”

Arata slumped against the table. “Couldn’t we just send a doll instead? They’d like it better.”

Ukitake laughed. “You shouldn’t judge them too harshly. They are just doing their job.”

“Yeah, but they’re the ones who make their jobs, and it sucks.” Arata sighed. “All right, no reason complaining about it. We do we have to do?” He had never been able to get out of these, and he didn’t see a point in doing it now.

Ukitake smiled. “Our family will have to present a gift to the Kuchiki’s, but I’ll handle that. The only thing you’ll have to worry about beforehand is the Kimono fittings. You’ve definitely out grown the set you had. You’ll have to be fitted for new ones.”

Arata groaned. Many of the lower class nobles and some of the sub-families of the higher ones could not afford to keep and maintain a kimono at their residence. It was very common to rent them from various shops. The over-all process took an extreme amount of time, and that wasn’t including the daunting task actually putting the thing on. Depending on how many layers it had, it could take hours.

“And there’s no way to get out of this?” he asked hopelessly.

“Hey! Did I not just hear, ‘there’s no point in complaining?’”

Arata flicked a bit of cream at his face, proud that it landed square on the tip of his nose. “I can’t imagine the scowl Captain Kuchiki’ll have when I ask for leave.”

“I imagine he has already scheduled it in,” Ukitake replied, not bothering to wipe his face. “I know you hate it…”

“That’s an understatement,” Arata mumbled. He instantly regretted the words. A sad guilty look crept into his father’s face, a look he could never stand seeing. He forced a smile on his face. “But, you know, all that fancy food might make it worth my while.”

Ukitake snorted, wiping the cream off his nose and placing it in his mouth. “I’m sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> review if you like, critique if you don't!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, now we come into the dreaded awful horrible territory of homophobia. Keep in mind that this specific scene takes place in the 80’s, when homosexuals were just starting to get a leg up in America, and the rest of the world is slowly following behind, but there were still a lot of violence against them. I’m not a history expert and I encourage people to do their own research if you’re interested.  
> Warnings for non-graphic violence and non-descript homophobia.  
> Onward!

The ground was wet from the earlier rain, and Isuma was standing in the perfect spot. Arata stabbed into the water freezing it before aiming a quick kick to his middle. Isuma dodged easily, but he stepped on the ice and lost his footing. It was enough of a distraction to land a solid blow to his knees. 

Isuma fell with a heavy thud. Gold eyes closed momentarily, giving him enough time get his blade poised at Isuma throat. 

He blinked in surprise, but didn’t try to escape. “Not bad kid, you’re getting good at using your power.” He made to get up, but Arata held firm.

“Bring out your shikei,” Arata said. Isuma laughed, like he thought Arata was joking. “I’m not letting you up, until you do.” 

Isuma’s hand flexed over the hilt of his sword, seemingly in contemplation. Suddenly, a cloud of smoke exploded in his face, causing him to jump back from the attack. When his vision cleared, a calm cat, with such a bizarrely blue coloring it could only be Isuma, sitting with his shirt collar in his mouth, his tail thumping triumphantly.

Arata glared. “That’s not fair!” he growled, stomping over to where Isuma was trying to drag his clothing away. He picked up the cat by the scruff of his neck. “If you think I’m going to let up just because you’re cute. You’ve got another thing coming!”

“Ah, I’m flattered,” Isuma said. “Sure you’re not feeling the urge to give me a treat?”

“I’m _feeling_ the urge to throw you against the wall,” Arata muttered. 

“Officer Shihoin.”

They both turned instantly. They could see the outline of Captain Kuchiki standing outside the practice, only his head turned towards them, as if he had just been passing by, but he headed their way as soon as he saw their antics. Arata dropped Isuma, who quickly scurried for his clothes. 

“I expect my division to use their time productively,” he said, once he was close enough, “And not wasting government money by behaving childishly.” He gave a scathing look to Isuma, still trying to situate himself in his pants to avoid indecent exposure. “There was a massive attack in the Rukon. Since you two clearly aren’t busy, why don’t you report to the 35th and help with clean up.” 

The pop from the change covered up whatever response Isuma might have had. Arata got a brief glimpse of exposed thigh through the smoke, before quickly averting his eyes. “Who knows? Maybe there’s a poor scared girl that just needs a cat to pet,” Isuma said, sounding like a poor attempt of humor.

The captain scowled. “It matters little,” he said dismissively. “Leave immediately. I do not want to see you back before dusk.”

Isuma straightened himself off. “Right away, Sir.” He didn’t bother to turn around before heading out of the practice area, Arata rushing behind him. He peeked behind to see Captain Kuchiki drawing his sword. 

“I think you should show a bit more respect to him,” he said after a safe distance. “He is you’re Captain.” 

“He’s my Captain but he’s got a stick up his ass, and no one to tell him to take it out,” Isuma growled. 

“That’s not very fair. He’s got a lot on his plate, a lot more than you or I do.” Arata said, turning around so he was walking backwards. “He’s a good man, a good leader. I don’t think he deserves the way you treat him.”

“He’s the reason I got stuck with you,” Isuma muttered, shaking his head. “Look, ever since his wife died, everyone’s been walking on eggshell around him. When he finally gets out of this funk, I think he’ll appreciate that I took the fall as the guy he lashed out on.”

Arata raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re really doing?” 

Isuma looked taken aback. “Of course! I’m not being a dick for nothing, have I ever given you reason to think that?”

“Well…” He caught the warning look out of the corner of his eye. “No, Officer Shihoin, that would never cross my mind.” 

“That’s right,” he said with finality. They walked through the barrier into the districts. “So you going to the fancy shindig in a few weeks?”

Arata nodded. “I’ve been overdo for a visit. Turns out Central 46’s been pretty angry at me for being secluded in the Academy for a few years.” Isuma snorted. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know why they focus in on me, do you?” 

Isuma blinked, looking surprised. “Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.” Obviously. “They always ask me strange questions and they seem to keep me in their sights constantly.” 

“I think you’re just imagining it,” Isuma said dismissively. “The representatives give people the creeps as a rule. It’s not just you.”

Arata didn’t believe him, but if Isuma was convinced, there wasn’t really a point in trying to persuade him of something that wasn’t important to him. 

They knew they had reached their destination by the line of busy shinigami blocking off a section of the block. There was a large hole in the middle of houses all clumped together. There were a few people pulled off to the side, being treated for injuries, but none of them seemed to be major. 

A man (Arata recognized him as the fifth seat of their division, but could not remember his name) approached them from the wreckage. Arata could see the smirk he was trying to conceal. “Captain sent word ahead that you would be coming. We’ve got the supplies coming in an hour or so. What we need is to get out all the debris so that setting it up will be quick.” He held his hand out towards the buildings, “Shall we?” 

He led them through the front door, which was as far anyone could go, as there was a large beam laid right out in the middle of the room, surrounded by all the debris brought down with it. 

“Good luck,” They both looked on in horror as the fifth seat started back towards the street. “What? Captain’s orders.” 

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“I blame you entirely,” Arata groaned. “Why am I always collateral damage to your… trouble making?!” He couldn’t think of a better word. 

“Shut up. It’s not like you were any less to blame,” Isuma muttered, rubbing his shoulder. 

They were heading up directly through the districts as fast as Arata’s legs could handle. Lifting the heavy support beams had quickly become their job, while the rest of the group had focused on placing replacements. It was now that dark twilight, where it was too bright to light the street lanterns, but too dark to see things distinctly. 

“You could have ordered them to help, then I wouldn’t have my legs falling off.”

“What I’m hearing is that we need to work on your lower body strength. Besides I don’t have any authority over the cleanup crew, right Tsuki!” He called behind them to the group about a hundred yards away. The woman smiled and nodded, despite not knowing what the previous conversation was about. 

A high pitched scream sounded off to their left, followed by loud shouting of men. The two partners shared a brief glance before bolting off in that direction. The few people still wandering the streets stayed out of their way, but none of them bothered to head in and offer assistance. 

The indistinct shouting was abruptly cut off, and as they ran closer they could hear the thuds and grunts of exertions. Isuma took a sharp turn into the market on their left, coming on the site of a small group of men, gathered around another curled up on the ground. They were standing in the remains of a wrecked market stand. The victim was dressed in a loose Japanese yukata, but the others were decked in blacks and smooth leather jackets. They were each taking turns kicking him and encouraging the others. 

“Stop!” Arata shouted. They turned instantly, and instead of scattering like thugs usually did, they closed in on each other to form a crude defense tactic. Arata and Isuma spilt off and go in from each side. Three men, two blonde and one brunette, broke off and face him, while two more went for Isuma. Arata quickly took two of them off their feet as they stepped towards him. The shock of the impact kept them down while he took out the third. 

The other two, seeing how quickly their friends were defeated, started to retreat, but Isuma was already behind them. They were foolish enough to launch a few punches, which were easily dodged. Isuma struck both of them with his hilt in quick succession, making them drop like flies. 

The brunette by Arata’s feet tried to crawl away. He dug his sheath into his back to hold the man down. “You’re all under arrest for assault and disturbing the peace.”

“What the fuck?!” The man under him shouted. “Who the fuck are you freaks?!”

“Are you the leader?” Arata asked. He saw a few of the goons nod out of his peripheral vision. “Did no one tell you how to behave here?” The man growls furiously, seeming to be incapable of forming words. 

_Where is everyone?_ He looked around at the empty market place, trying to decide where people had fled to. _The shops are all closed, but that wouldn’t have meant the street would be deserted. And someone should have come and helped, the attack wasn’t that large and no one else is here. It’s like no one even tried to help._

The stranglers from the construction site were finally catching up to them. Isuma pulling the goons off the ground, called to them for some assistance. “Grab these guys and line them up along the wall.” Arata took the leader by the arm and handed him over to the officers of his squad. The victim was still lying on the ground, trying to get into a sitting position.

Arata rushed over to him and helped the man to his feet, hesitantly letting him support this own weight. He was bigger than Arata, middle aged and European looking. He recognized him as the stand owner that Isuma bought the orange scarf from. The man gave Arata a shaky smile, splitting the cut on his lip. “Thank you,” he said, holding out his hand in a western greeting.

Arata took it. “Of course.”

Isuma came over, having finished containing the thugs. “You shouldn’t have any more problems from them.” He took a look at the ruined store front. “I’m sorry we didn’t come in time to stop all the damage. Will you be able to fix it?”

“Yes,” the man said, “we’ve had worse before.” 

Isuma’s eyes saddened. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

“It’s not your fault, Isuma,” he said. “At least you came to help.” 

Isuma didn’t respond. The mood around each of them felt off. The man, even after suffering a beating, had a positive aura, and Isuma was getting more serious by the minute. _Not a good sign._

“Let’s get you inside,” he suggested, which seemed to snap Isuma out of whatever he was thinking about. Arata gently wrapped his arm around the man’s torso and guided him towards the door.

“Juan!” A voice shouted behind them. They all turned to see a very tanned man racing towards them. He all but barreled into Arata. 

The man-Juan- wrapped his free arm around him. “Ricky, I’m all right. The Shinigami came before it got too bad.”

“Too bad?” Ricky asked disbelievingly. “Juan, you look like shit!” 

“Yes,” Arata agreed, trying to put bite in his tone. “I’d like to help him get inside if that’s not too much trouble.”

Ricky shook his head, looking dazed at being rebutted. “No, of course not.” He walked ahead of them to open the door. The inside of the house was small. It would have been more accurate to call it a single room. There was a curtained off area that was obviously where one of them slept, but Arata couldn’t see any other places to sleep. He set Juan in a not-so sturdy chair next to the fire pit. _This place looks more like it belongs in the district 50 instead of district 30._

Ricky was by his side in an instant, cupping his injured cheek gently. “Ryuta warned me about them before I could get very far. He said he started talking about us and this group of… thugs stormed off in a rage!” He turned cold eyes to Isuma. “You made them pay right?” he asked spitefully. 

Arata blinked at the strange behavior. _He’s not acting like his friend got hurt. It’s more like… I don’t know what to call it!_

“They’ve been arrested,” Isuma answered. “I made arrangements to have them tried in the western districts. Even when they get out of jail, they won’t be able to bother you anymore.”

They both looked extremely relieved. “Thank you,” Juan said. 

“It would be best if you receive a medical examination. You took a lot of hits to your chest. I can have a healer summoned, or I can do it myself.”

Juan shook his head. “You don’t have to bother yourself over me…”

“Don’t listen to him,” Ricky cut him off. “We won’t be able to afford the healer. He always charges us extra. Please, if you have the time, could you do it?” 

“We still have to get your side of the story anyway, it won’t be a big deal,” Isuma explained. “Okay with you, kid?” he looked over at him teasingly.

Arata glared at him half-heartedly. He looked at the two other men in the room. _But now is not the time,_ he mourned. “Yeah, it’s fine with me. It’s not like I’m the one who’s going to do it.” 

“Great,” he said, walking across the room and getting right to work. Juan moved to open his yukata, but Isuma stopped him. “I just need to see your chest, you can keep it on.” 

“Thank you.” Juan said, relaxing visibly. “I was trying to hold off putting stock away until Ricky got back, so I didn’t have to do it myself. They came from the lower district direction. I saw them before they started doing anything, they were very loud. They looked like thieves, and since everyone else had already packed up, I took our most valuable items and tried to throw them in here, but they got me too quickly. Their leader started talking to me, started spewing insults… Then they started attacking the stand.” He looked up at Ricky and grabbed his hand. “I thought if I let them hurt the store they would leave me alone, I’m sorry…”

“No, don’t start that. You did the right thing,” Ricky assured, “what happened next?”

Juan swallowed and continued. “One of them asked me if I was the ‘cunt,’ and when I didn’t answer they pulled me into the street and… and did this.” He gestured to his torso. “It wasn’t very long, I think. You arrived a few minutes later.”

“That’s a few minutes too many,” Ricky growled. 

Arata stood behind Isuma, but found the only thing he could do was stare at what was going on, and it felt awkward, on top of the pressing silence. “So why does the healer charge you extra?”

Ricky snorted. “He’s afraid that one of us will become aroused when he’s around. Like he’s attractive, that wheezy old…”

“Ricky,” Juan interrupted. “He’s a nice man. At least he still comes around.” Ricky ground his teeth together did but didn’t respond. Arata looked between the two, very confused as to what was going on.

Isuma finished his examination, leaning back with a sigh. “It doesn’t look like there’s any serious damage. You’re definitely going to be sore for a few days. If you feel any sharp pains you’ll have to call the over-paying doc.” He got to his feet. Juan moved to follow him, but his breath caught and he sat back down. 

Ricky showed them to the door. “If you guys are ever in need of something again come by our shop, we’ll give you half price.”

Arata smiled at that, _if I get discounts on the food I buy, then I might be able to help Father with that stupid Kimono renting._ But his hopes sank when Isuma shook his head. “We would never take advantage of a misfortune. Please just focus on taking care of your partner and that will be all the reward we need.” Isuma turned to go. Ricky gave Arata a look that made him think he was supposed to be part of some inside joke. He winked before closing the door inches from Arata’s face. “Kid, get your jaw off the floor and let’s go!”

Arata shook himself and dashed out. Isuma seemed to be holding back laughter and walking uncharacteristically fast. Arata jumped in front of him walking backwards so he didn’t get run over. “Why the hell did you turn them down?! I know the Great noble House Shihoin doesn’t have a problem with all these parties, but some of us have to buy our own kimonos!” 

Isuma tried to push him away, but Arata dodged his hand. “I can’t believe I’m the one saying this. Out of the two of use, I figured it’d be you. You saw the state of their place. They have enough problems without us taking advantage of our job.”

Arata slumped down, guilt striking sharply in his chest. “Damn it!” _I should have thought of that! Way to go, Arata!_ He walked back so they were facing the same way again. “Speaking of which, they seem unusually poor for living so close to the Seireitei. I don’t think this is the first time they were attacked.”

“Probably not,” Isuma said. “And that ‘healer’ likely isn’t the only over charging them for things.”

“Yeah, what was up with that?” Arata asked. “They don’t seem like the type to annoy other people, and I can’t imagine they sell anything offensive…” 

Isuma blinked, his gold eyes widening in shock. “Kid, I think you’re missing something important.”

“What?” 

“You seriously don’t know?” 

“Don’t know what?!”

“Uh, I don’t think I’m the one who should be telling you this,” Isuma sighed, “Why don’t you go home and ask your daddy.”

Arata groaned. “You really do think I’m twelve, huh?” Isuma snorted. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. What are you keeping from me?”

Isuma sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Those two were a couple.” 

Arata stopped walking, making Isuma crash into him. “Really?” he asked, Isuma tried to shove passed him, but Arata held his ground. He put all the strange events and everyone’s reactions, and it made more sense than Ricky and Juan just being business partners. But still…. “Really?”

“Yes!” Isuma shouted, finally getting passed and stomping off. 

Arata rushed after him. “As in a relationship couple? As in they live together like husband and…husband? As in…”

“As in yes! They live together, they share each other’s thoughts, they share a bed! Yes!” Isuma’s voice boomed off the walls. A few people turned their head’s, but he didn’t seem to notice. He turned back and stared his partner down. “You got a problem?”

Arata blinked. “No… no, I just didn’t know you could do that.”

Isuma seemed to relax slightly. “Some people aren’t very accommodating.” 

“How come? I mean, I’ve never… heard of it before. If people don’t like it, that wouldn’t be the case, would it?”

“Eh, I think most people want to pretend people who don’t want to get married and have kids don’t exist,” Isuma said. “The Europeans call’em Homosexuals, man and woman are called heterosexual.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know, some Latin shit that never caught on here,” Isuma said. “Getting married to the same sex was really popular among nobles a thousand years ago, especially with second born siblings. Then a whole lot of Rukon residents took issue with ‘unnatural lifestyles,’ and in an interest of not causing riots, the practice almost died out. A few decades ago we started getting more and more homosexual couples, and it seems to be growing in popularity, but still isn’t tolerated in most of the world, like those stupid punks.”

“Why do you know so much about it Mr. I’ve-never-been-to-the-world-of-the-living?”

“I don’t think the Academy has caught up with the times,” Isuma said, “but both of my mothers liked to keep me informed when I was younger.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhh,” Arata moaned. _Why do I feel like I’m digging myself into a hole?_ “All right but… why?”

“Apparently there were a lot of plagues a long time ago, about the time of the Quincy war, and they wanted a lot of people to have babies…” 

“No, I mean, why do it?” Isuma started to glare at him again, and he held up his hands in surrender. “I don’t think I’m understanding why, and I just want to know. Is it an arranged thing, a society thing, what?”

“It’s makes them happy to be with the people they want to, instead of what their ‘supposed’ to be with,” Isuma said,” not all women are attracted to men, and not all men are attracted to women. And sometimes there is a whole spectrum in between.”

They stayed silent after that. Arata processed the information. _What if…that’s what happened to me?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short little teaser chapter. I had to split it up because the next part is so long, I thought it'd be unfair to keep this lying around.

Going to the seamstress’ shop took a good chunk of his day, he knew from experience, and he didn’t know how Captain Kuchiki would take it if he asked for that time off. He couldn’t imagine it going over well, and as he peeked into the office, the stern expression on his face didn’t give him much hope. 

“You want something, Ukitake?” Captain Kuchiki asked, not looking up from his work.

Arata jumped, surprised at being caught. He stepped into the office and crossed the room. “Y-yes, sir,” he stammered. “I came to ask for the day off tomorrow.” He flinched at the raised eyebrow. “It-it’s just that I need to go…”

“I am aware that you need to get a kimono,” Captain Kuchiki interrupted. “The ceremony is in two weeks, Ukitake. You are cutting this very close.” He placed the paper he was working on to the side and finally looked at him. “Yes, you may have that time off. It would not due to have you under dressed.” 

_Well, that was easy. If not a little demeaning._ “Thank you, sir.” He bowed and turned to leave. 

“Ukitake,” Captain called as he reached the door. Arata turned to see him holding up a piece of paper, and he could clearly see his name on the top. “I’ve been taking names for yearly promotions, and Officer Shihoin has placed your name in the running.”

Arata blinked, stunned into silence. _A promotion? Why the hell didn’t that bastard tell me?!_ Arata tried to respond, but the Captain held up his hand. “It says that you achieved shekai about six months ago, and that you’ve become quiet efficient at it.”

“Well, that depends on your definition…”

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yes, sir."

The Captain nodded thoughtfully. After a brief moment of awkward silence, he waved his hand in dismissal. “You may go.”

Arata bowed low and made a hasty retreat, closing the door behind him. Isuma was standing outside, leaning against the wall. “What’d he say?”

“You put my name in for promotion.”

“Damn it! I wanted to tell you!” 

Arata scrunched his nose. “That’s not funny! How long ago did you do that?” 

“Oh, a few weeks.” Isuma said dismissively. 

“And when exactly were you planning on telling me?”

“Oh, you know, day of, wouldn’t want you to get nervous.” 

Arata groaned in frustration. “I hope to the gods you are kidding.” 

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The next day. Arata stared at the address in his hand, then up at the street marker. The names matched up, now to find the number. Everything seemed vaguely familiar. He had been to this seamstress, Kana, before. The old woman was kind, and she had always done good work, at least when he was younger. He hadn’t needed a kimono for three years, ever since he entered the Academy. 

He stopped at a storefront that he recognized. The sign read Radiant Patterns. He walked through the entry into a small lobby, empty except for a young girl sitting in the corner. She smiled when she saw him, and walked out of the room and further in the shop. Arata waited patiently. The girl returned, accompanied by an old woman, her hair tied up behind her head and her eyes wide and searching.

“Good day, Arata,” Kana said sweetly. “It’s been a long time.”

He bowed deeply. “Too long, Miss. Kana.”

She led him through to the back. The room had three mirrors tilted at different angles to get the full affect, and a rack of clothes, all displaying a vibrant array of colors. “Please stand over on the platform please.” He followed her lead. He had grabbed a red colored yukata, one of the few that he had. And now that he was starring at his reflection, he was regretting his decision. The red was so dark it made his hair blinding. He scrunched his nose in annoyance. 

Kana took out her tape. Arata raised his arms expectantly. She moved about, humming pleasantly. “You’ve grown quite a bit since the last time I saw you. The Academy has filled you out.” 

“Thank you, Miss,” he said. 

She glanced at the measures as she was walking over to her stands. “Now let’s see if we can show off these new muscles,” she said, switching her gaze between the mirrors, and the fabric in her hand. “Men’s formal wear in this place is so stifling. Those old councilors get one stray look of skin and they have a heart attack. Are there any colors you take offense to, Arata?”

“If it’s all the same to you, Miss. Kana, I would like something very simple.”

Her face curled up in a scowl. It was almost comical with all her wrinkles. “Fu, you’re no fun. You have such an interesting color combination. White, tan and turquoise. I’m never going to find another one like you again.”

Arata raised his eyebrows. “You did not get your fill when I was younger?” he asked, distinctly remembering a bright blue and gold ensemble from when he was eight.

“Oh, but I was never able to find the perfect combination,” she sighed. She held out a deep purple with golden thread. “I’d love to try this on you.” 

“It’s just that I don’t want to spend a lot of money.” 

“Oh don’t worry about that. This is still under your father’s account.”

Arata gave a weak smile. _That’s what I’m afraid of._ “I just want to not draw attention to myself this year. Please?”

“All right, Arata, since you asked so nicely.” She moved away from the more eye-catching ones, and pulled out the darker tones of black, navy, and grey. She laid them along his outstretched arms, pulling them across his torso. She tossed the grey carelessly over her shoulder, and debated between the two colors. “Which would you rather have?” Arata stood while contemplating his choices. “I like the black actually.” He was constantly in his uniforms, but the material felt nicer.

Kana smiled, like it was a test that he had passed. “I’ve got something just perfect for this, I’ll only have to make minimal adjustments. Just let me grab it and we can begin.”

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Arata sighed in relief as he left the fitting room. He felt like he had run a marathon, exhausted from staying still and locking his muscle to avoid being pricked. Kana had left him alone in the hallway, allowing him to catch his breath. 

There was a room across from him, and he locked gazes with a man sitting in a corner, sewing a sleeve to a robe. He was pale and slim, with pleasingly shaped blue eyes and shining black hair. He must have noticed Arata starring, because he looked up and smiled at him. Arata blushed embarrassed at being caught. He waved halfheartedly and rushed out of the shop. 

The outside didn’t offer much relief. Not many people were out in the twilight, but Arata still tried to cover his blush. Ever since he and Isuma had saved Ricky and Juan, he had been contemplating things in his life. If it didn’t have to be a man and a woman in a relationship, it gave him a small hope. But he was still thinking. _I’ve never looked at men like that before, and just because I know that people can be together like that, doesn’t mean that’s what I am._ He looked back at the store front. _That man looked nice, but then again, woman look nice too. How am I supposed to figure this out without going for help?_

_There is an easy solution,_ a deep voice rang in his mind. 

Arata stopped in the middle of the street. _Hondr?_

_Indeed._

_But I’m not even meditating! Are you saying that you could've been speaking to me the all this time?_

_Of course not, you’ve only recently become strong enough to hear me. And this is the first time you’ve wanted my advice._

_Who says I wanted your help?_ Arata asked. He started making his way back to the Seireitei again. 

_Are you saying you don’t?_

Arata sighed. _Yes, please._

Arata could feel him shifting around. _If you are unsure if you are attracted to males, then just find one and kiss him._

Arata pinched the bridge of his nose before he could stop himself. It was a good thing no one was around. _I don’t know if it’s worth it to explain why that isn’t a good idea._

_It is a simple solution that you are not willing to consider because it is too forward, and you are too shy._

_That’s not even the half of it!_ Arata shouted. _I’m not going to pull a random man off the street. That is a sure way to start a fight. And I’m not close enough to anyone to ask casually._

_You have Isuma._

Arata shuddered. _There is no way in hell I am ever going to kiss my boss!_

_You are closing off your options,_ Hondr sighed. 

_No, you keep suggesting easy options that will result in negative consequences for me! The only thing we’ve established is what I’m not going to do._

_As long as you’ve taken something from this discussion._

Arata felt like he should bang his head against a wall. _I don’t understand how we can be the same person and disagree so much!_

Hondr was silent for a moment, and Arata thought that he wasn’t going to respond, but then: _As you say, we are the same person. So my ideas must have come from somewhere._


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the longest chapter to date! and the fact that I was able to dish it out so quickly means we're getting to the more interesting stuff. 
> 
> Shout out to Spunky0ne for letting me use her character for this chapter. If you don't know her, she does a _lot_ of Bleach m/m romances. You should go check her out.

The sky was still dark when Arata gave up on sleep. The upcoming ceremony was weighing on his mind, and he was caught in between wanting it to be over with, and time going so slow that it felt like he’d be dreading it forever. He turned on his lamp light and read a book for a little while, but soon felt too restless to stay in bed. He grabbed a coat to ward off the morning chill, not bothering to get fully dressed, and stepped out of his apartment. 

The barracks were quiet, the nightshift long gone, and everyone else was exhausted, sleeping like they were supposed to. Arata slipped through without encountering a soul. Outside was another matter. It was the weekend, and a lot of parties still going strong. He passed a few, the lights shining bright in the darkness of pre-dawn. No one he encountered bothered to talk to him, most of whom were too intoxicated to string a sentence together. 

He didn’t have a real destination in mind when he had set out, but he knew that he had to get to his father’s home before too long, and his feet lead him there much earlier than needed. The front gates were open, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. Chiyo hadn’t even started the kitchen fires. 

He veered off into one of the garden paths, walking as slow as he could. The bushes had taken another bout of topiary design, their foliage trimmed into crude shapes, reminiscent of Arata’s early attempts at finger painting. This happened whenever his father was trapped inside the house on sick leave for too long. He didn’t have the skill for it, but eventually the garden would recover. 

There wasn’t much else to look at, except a koi pond situated in the center. The fish swam lazily through the water, probably asleep as well. Arata sat at the edge and dipped his feet in. It still held a bit of winters bite. He recognized the sensation of needles pricking his skin as cold, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It calmed after a moment, leaving a serene feeling. 

_It probably has something to do with my ice powers,_ he thought, _you still there, Hondr?_

_Indeed._

_Just checking._ He slid closer to the edge. Starring at the sky lighten slowly over the wall.

“Hey, Kid.”

Arata jerked, scaring the fish to the other side of the pond. He turned and glared at the man standing behind him, a smile eased across his stumbled face. “Why do you keep doing that?!”

Shunsui laughed. “Because you keep jumping.” He stepped up and sat beside him. “Good place to wait,” he said.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Arata admitted, “nervous.” He looked his uncle up and down. He was dressed exactly how he was for every other day. “You seem prepared.” 

“Eh, you know I’m only invited because I’m a captain, they don’t expect much from me. You aren’t dressed either.”

“I’m in my night clothes, I’m obviously not ready.”

“Oh, thought you were just planning on skipping.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Arata said, “Those council reps would turn on Father and I’d feel horrible.” By the end of his little rant Shunsui was already laughing. Arata scrunched his nose. “Sometimes you’re awful,” he fumed. 

“But you loooooooove me!”

“Much to our better judgment.” They both turned to see Ukitake walking across the garden towards them. He was already in a dressing robe and had his hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. He looked completely relaxed. “Would you like to join us for breakfast, Shunsui?”

“You bet,” he said, getting to his feet. “I haven’t had anything since lunch yesterday. Lt. Matsumoto kept me very busy last night.”

Ukitake rolled his eyes. “You encounter more dangers in a bar than on the battlefield.”

“Ah, it fills my heart with joy when you needlessly care for me.”

“Someone needs to watch out for you, you don’t seem to be up for the task.”

“Ohhh I see, you want to kick my ass for having more fun than you!”

“Nanoe does that fine on her own.” 

Arata had to smile at the exchange. This banter he was so used to hearing was a practiced greeting, much like how others said ‘hello, how are you’ without much thought.  
They walked into the open dining room, where the food was already laid out for them. 

“So, has anything interesting happened with you?” Shunsui asked as they sat down. “I heard that Byakuya was thinking of giving you a promotion.”

Arata flushed. “He mentioned it a few weeks ago, but that was it. I haven’t been called in or anything. I’m trying not to get my hopes up.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, you’ve more than earned it. It should have happened as soon as you got your shikai.”

“Well, I’ve just gotten the hang of it,” Arata said. “I would like to understand him better before having to fight any of the officers. Hondr has a tendency to freeze things when I’m not focusing on control.”

_I do not take responsibility for that, you are in control in the physical world. The blame is entirely yours._

“And now he’s talking when I don’t want him around.” Arata rolled his eyes. “Does that happen to you?”

“Zanpaktou spirits are a part of your own soul,” Ukitake said, “He can’t really do anything without your consent.”

“That’s not what’s happening,” Arata assured. “He just seems to be giving terrible advice. How do I get it to stop?”

Shunsui chuckled. “it doesn’t. You just get used to it,” he said, “and no matter how bad his advice is, it comes from somewhere.”

_Yeah, that’s what he said before, but that doesn’t make it any better,_ Arata thought, finishing off his plate.

“So want kind of advice is he giving you?” Shunsui asked. 

“Um…” Arata scrambled for an answer, “just odd things. Often It’s silly and crude and would likely lead to trouble.”

“Ha! You’ve got no idea,” Shunsui said. “You can’t imagine the trouble you can get into when you have two women living in your head.”

“Oh, I always thought there were more than two,” Arata said.

“Ha, ha. Your kid is hilarious.”  
Soft footsteps from the hall. “Lord Ukitake? The tailor is here with your cloths.”

Ukitake stood once he was done with his last mouthful. “Well, that’s our cue.” He turned to Shunsui. “Soi Fon won’t be there, so you don’t have to lay low.” He didn’t say anything, but they all heard the sigh of relief. “Come on, Arata, we don’t want to be late.”

Arata took the largest bite he could, knowing it would be a long time before he would be able to eat. He smiled around the meat at his uncle. “See you later,” he mumbled through his food. He turned followed his father out of the room. 

“You take a shower, I’ll go first.”

“All right.” They walked down the hallway and to the dressing room, just off the healing baths. The door was close, but Arata could hear someone moving around in there. “Don’t let her drown you in fabric.”

“I won’t,” Ukitake replied.  
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Arata walked into the side room of the bathing area, drying himself off with a towel. A man about his age was standing by a table with several boxes staked up high next to him. It took him a moment to realize it was the man he had been starring at when he was in the shop a few weeks ago.

 _This is odd,_ Arata thought.

“Hello, Lord Ukitake,” he said in a surprisingly deep voice. “My name is Tomio. I know I’m not what you were expecting, but I hope you find me a suitable replacement.”

“That’s fine,” Arata said slowly. He stood in the center of the room, clutching his towel a little tighter. “But what happened to Kana?”

Tomio handed him a pair of slacks and a plain shirt for Arata to put on. “She has fallen ill, sir.” 

Arata paused in his movements. “Is she all right?”

“It is only a minor cold,” Tomio assured him, his brow creasing in confusion. He looks a lot better when he’s smiling, Arata caught himself thinking. “Are you close to her, sir?” 

Arata stood straight again, a blush creeping onto he cheeks. “N-no, not really, I only see her for events like these, but she’s always nice. I would hate for something to happen to her.”

Tomio nodded thoughtfully, continuing to pull cloth from the boxes. The silence made Arata uneasy, and he could only take it for thirty seconds. “Have I done something offensive, Mr. Tomio?”

The man blinked in confusion, then shook his head quickly. “Oh no, Lord Ukitake,” he smiled kindly. Arata liked that it reached his eyes. “I was just remembering a number. Miss Kana did say this was the nicest household she works for.”

“That’s very kind of her, but I highly doubt it’s true.” 

Tomio gave him a speculative look. They were onto more complicated pieces now, necessitating Tomio be up close to Arata, helping him with the complicated knots of the obi and smoothing out the folded layers. Arata could feel him shifting the fabric, his hands moving over his back. Arata felt the blush creeping back. _What is wrong with me?!_

“It is true,” Tomio said, bring Arata back to the present, he was holding out the hakama for him to step into. “Miss Kana has been serving the nobles longer than I’ve been in the Rukon. Lift your arms please,” He pulled the top over Arata’s head. “No one else today has even mentioned her absence. You and Captain Ukitake are more attentive than all of them combined.” 

“I’m sure my father offered you medicine to take back to her.”

“They are in my bag,” he chuckled. “The Captain is very kind. And you…” he trailed off, stepping back to see his finished work. “Are done.” He held his hand out to guide Arata to the mirror in the corner of the room. Arata stared at himself, covered in the deep blues and shiny golden outlines. His hair seemed to be muted compared to his eyes, which in this light looked more green than turquoise. _I look… ethereal._  
“You’re beautiful,” Tomio said, and Arata couldn’t ignore the awe in his voice. He trailed his hand lightly down the back of Arata’s head. “It’s a shame your hair isn’t longer. It would be lovely in a braid.”

Arata was suddenly aware of how close he was, their faces right next to each other. He turned his eyes and focused in on Tomio’s lips, moving minutely with each calm breath. He wondered what they would feel like before he could stop himself. They pulled into a smirk, and Arata realized that he was caught staring again. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ he thought, looking away, _I barely know this guy!_

“Thank you for taking this time, Mr. Tomio,” he said softly, hoping this would direct them back to the present.

Tomio moved away, and Arata caught a brief look of disappointment, before smiled sweetly. “It was no problem at all. It has been a pleasure to see such fine clothes on such a beautiful body.”  
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After a whirlwind of greetings and handshakes and bowing, Arata found himself at the edge of a large crowd in the middle of the Kuchiki gardens. The people, in their beautiful, cumbersome kimonos, moved in slow currents around each other. He was under the shade of a late blooming plum tree, the dark purple bud clumped together. He imagined them open, their petals fluttering along the ground like warm snow.

“It is a shame they weren’t ready in time.” Arata turned. He was facing a man standing right next to him, staring up at the branches. Arata didn’t know his name, but his long white robe with black edges marked him as a member of the Central 46 external committee. “The cherry blossoms are beautiful, though. Everyone is over there, why aren’t you?”

Arata glanced back at the crowd, the moving blends of color making him dizzy from here. “I’m just waiting for everyone to spread out a little,” he said casually, “gives me room to breathe.”

The man chuckled, only half of his mouth taking part. “I can understand that.” He bowed deeply. “I’m Councilor Asami.”

Arata returned the gesture. “Arata Ukitake. Please to meet you.” 

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you here before,” Asami said.

_Ugh, here we go._ “I was at the Academy for three years, and for the last year and a half I have been focused on my work,” he said, trying to avoid all the unnecessary questions this conversation was going to garner. “I’m sure that’s why we’ve never met.” 

The young man smiled easily. “Yes, I received my position last year.”

“I hope they’re treating you well over there. You look like still you get to see the sun,” Arata said, noting the man’s tanned skin. 

“Yes,” Asami agreed. “I appreciate it all the more, now that I know what can happen without it.” He stepped forward so they were directly facing each other. “I’ve heard that you are partnered with Isuma Shihoin, how is it working with him?”

_Shit, you aren’t subtle in the least. The last guy at least talked about himself a little before interrogating me._ “He’s a handful,” he answered honestly, “sometimes it’s like putting up with a very sarcastic five-year-old, but he’s strong and pushes me,” and because he knew the question was coming, “I was able to unlock my shikai because of him.”

“Oh?” he sounded shocked at the volunteered information. “Would that make you eligible for a promotion soon?” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Arata lied. He didn’t want to seem too eager to spread that around. It was better that less people knew about that until it was official. “That’s up for Captain Kuchiki to decide.”

“Yes, speaking of which: how close are you to the Captain?”

Now that was an odd one. “Not very. I can’t imagine it’s any different with the other new recruits. I don’t even see him that much.”

“Interesting,” Asami said. Arata couldn’t fathom what was interesting about it. “How have you been feeling about overall?”

Arata shrugged. “Good. Nothing has been bothering me.”

Before he was able to probe further, his eyes focuses over Arata shoulder. “Oh, perfect,” he said, smiling pleasantly. “Just the person I wanted to see next.”

“Yes, I’d imagine so,” Captain Kuchiki’s deep voice replied. He walked over to stand between them, his cool grey eyes flicking between them impassively. “Councilor Asami, I was told you were looking for me. Would you like to step this way?”

“Of course.” Asami bowed lowly. “I’m sure we will see each other again soon, Lord Ukitake.”

“I’m sure,” Arata said, watching them walk away from him. When they were far enough away from him allowed himself the scowl he’d been holding back. There was something off about Asami, it might have been that he was still too blunt about his job, but Arata decided that he didn’t like him. 

“They’ll look beautiful,” a soft voice said. A woman he had only seen from a distance walked up to stand beside him. Her slim face was topped with an intricate weaving of jet black hair. Her eyes took up most of her face, deep pools of purple. Her kimono was white with pink cherry blossoms fluttering down her tiny body. 

He bowed low once he recognized her. “My Lady.”

“Oh please,” she said, waving a hand, “I’d prefer it if you just called me Rukia.” 

He turned to face her fully. “Then, please let me start over. Hello, Rukia, I’m Arata. My father has told me about you.”

She smiled sweetly. “And it seems that I’ve already known you from how much he talks about you.”

Arata dipped his head in embarrassment. That wouldn’t be the only way she’d have heard about him. Everyone likes to talk about the ‘noble mutts.’ He could see a few people from the crowd looking in their direction. “That must be grating. I’m sorry.”

“Not at all. It’s very endearing.” She lifted her gaze back to the branches. “There is a section of the garden where all the flowers are have all bloomed. Would you like to see?”

“I would love that.”

She led him to an equally deserted area. The tall flower bushes created a small alcove, filled with rare flowers from all over the world, they flowed into each other like a petal rainbow. A bench with its legs artfully covered in ivy was placed at the far end and they took their seat there. 

Arata eyed the small entrance to the wide open space. If anyone were to come in here, they might get the wrong idea. He considered moving them again, but the risk of other people was minimal, they hadn’t encountered anyone on the way here, and by the looks of it, this section might have been reserved for the family. 

Rukia sighed, relaxing into her seat. “I was hoping you’d be here. I’ve wanted to meet you ever since I joined the Kuchiki household.”

Arata nodded. “I understand, though I don’t know how much help I’ll be to you.”

Rukia raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know what I want to ask.”

“You want to know how I transitioned into my life in the Ukitake household.”

“All right, you got me,” she said. “Are you saying you won’t tell me?”

“No, no,” Arata said hastily, “it’s just that our circumstances are very different. I don’t really remember a time before living in my home. And the difference between our statuses is… blatant.”

Rukia looked crestfallen. “You don’t remember anything?”

“Only vague feelings,” Arata said, reaching back into his memory, “being cold and hungry mostly. Afterwards is much clearer. Everything was too good to be true. And all the different things I had to learn.” 

“Right?” She grabbed a handful of her sleeve and shook it. “I’ve never worn so many layers. They had to give me lessons to walk in these shoes.” 

“And the foods that you couldn’t eat with your hands?”

“Yes! I thought chopsticks were hard at the Academy!”

Arata laughed, “I tried to run away once. After a week, I think. It was too much for me, and I didn’t know what my father was trying to do. I got to the second district before he and Uncle Shunsui caught up with me.” 

“You two must really get along,” Rukia said, “he has been nothing but kind to me since I joined his division. I wish I had been as lucky as you have been.”

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s been three years since I joined the Kuchiki household, but it’s been… tense with my family.” 

_Well that’s not surprising._ Arata had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Do you now about Lady Hisana?” She nodded. “It must be really hard for Lord Byakuya to face you. He’s probably still mourning her, even after all these years.”

“I understand that,” Rukia huffed. “But if he still felt that way, why would he bother with me? I wish he would tell me these things himself.”

“He might be saying it in his own way,” Arata said. “The captain is a very quiet man, who lets his actions speak louder than his words.” She didn’t seem all that reassured. “He is terrifying sometimes, I admit.”

“It’s all right,” Rukia said, smiling. “Thank you for trying to cheer me up. It’s very sweet of you. ” She sighed, turning her head up towards the sky. The sun had moved across the sky to move behind the bushes. This seemed to break her spell. “Oh, I have to go.” She stood up and straightened her kimono. “I have to be at the evening meal.”

Arata stood and bowed. “Yes I understand. I wish you luck in your endeavors.”

“And to you as well.” She started to make her exit. “If I can, I’ll find a seat near yours, if that’s all right with you.”

“Yes, I’d like that.” She gave him one last smile before she disappeared into the main walkway.

Arata decided to give her a few minutes before following after her. This has been very restful, much better than I was expecting. All I have to do is get through the dinner and then it’s all over.

He heard footsteps coming to him, too heavy to be Rukia’s. A man staggered into the alcove, and by the way he was dressed, his fine black silk and golden snakes, Arata could tell he was from one of the higher clans. His black eyes scrutinized him, before turning away from him with his nose in the air. “Oh, I thought this place would be empty, but instead I find the clan mutt.”

Arata scrunched his nose. _He’s obviously drunk, just let it go._ “Forgive me, my lord,” he gritted out. He stood and straightened his clothing, preparing to leave before things got ugly. “I did not mean to obstruct your view.” 

The man shook his head. “No need. I was seeing what the bitch was doing in here. Now I know.”

Arata bristled. “Sir,” he growled, unable to keep the venom out of his voice. “You are allowed to comment on my existence however you wish. But Rukia Kuchiki is now the sister of her clan’s leader, and a kind woman. You are to show respect at all times, even when it you’re too drunk to walk straight.” He stalked towards the entrance, resolutely staring in front of him.

The man grabbed Arata by the arm and pulled him back into the alcove. His face stretched into a biting smile, a chilling look on him, despite the slight haziness of his eyes. “You do not command me, dog. You are an ungrateful little mutt, dragged out of the gutter and shoved into Ukitake’s care.” 

Arata took a deep breath to try and relax his muscle. _Don’t attack the noble. Don’t attack the noble. Don’t attack the noble._

_You could easily incapacitate him. He is intoxicated and is not armed._

_Shut up, Hondr. You are not helping._ “I had no idea you felt that way, my lord.” He tugged lightly, but the man held firm. “And I’m sure Lord Kuchiki would be very interested, as well, so if you’ll excuse me-”

His grip tightened painfully on Arata’s forearm. “If you rat on me, I’ll rat on you.”

Arata jerked away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spat.

“I understand,” the man said, as if backing off, but he stepped in front of the exit, “It’s only natural for you two to seek each other out. You always hear about dogs preferring their own breed, I’m sure you’ll make lovely bitches…” 

Arata had never gotten the term ‘seeing red’ before, but this had to be it. All he saw was this man’s smirking face before he lost it.

The next thing he knew there were a pair of strong arms wrapped around his biceps. The man was on the ground, his nose bleeding and a look of terror on his face. His gaze was fixed over Arata’s shoulders. “C-captain, he went crazy! I was just standing here, and he attacked me!”

“Can it, Orochi!” Arata whipped his head around to see Shunsui glaring down at the man. “I heard what you said. And I applaud Arata for not losing it sooner.” He let him go and pulled Orochi to his feet. “I will be happy to escort you to Byakuya so you can explain why you left blood in his garden.” He turned him towards the entrance and started leading him out. “You all right, Kid?”

“Yeah,” Arata said, looking down at his bloody knuckles. He couldn't tell if it was his or Orochi's. “just pissed.”

Shunsui laughed. “Understood. You better head back to the main group. Dinner should be starting soon and you might want to wash your hands.” 

Arata nodded. 

0000000000000000000000000  
“So,” Tomio said, as he slipped through the knots of the obi. “I hear you’re the reason I’ll have to clean blood from Lord Orochi’s kimono.”

Arata blushed, trying to avoid looking at the man’s amused smirk. “I’m sorry for the extra work I’ve caused. I will pay for any time…”

“Oh, hush,” Tomio admonished. “He’s a horrid man, and I’m glad to see him taken down a few pegs.” 

“Even though it’s true, I should not have attacked him,” Arata said, “he was just trying to goad me, and I should have had more control of myself.” 

“I think…” Tomio trailed off, putting the clothes back in the boxes, “you are being far too hard on yourself, Mr. Arata.”

He blushed at his first name. “And I think you are being far too forgiving, Mr. Tomio,” he shot back gently. 

“No.” he shook his head, tossing his black hair into his eyes. “I’ve known you for only a few short hours, and I already know what stands before me. I see a kind, level-headed young man. I trust that you were justified in your actions.” He turned and took Arata’s hand in his, making the boy jump. _His hands are soft._ “I also know that I’d like to turn those hours into weeks.” He smiled sadly. “If only we weren’t so busy, hm?”

He walked away, leaving Arata to stare after him, silently listing off the pieces of the kimono as he pulled them together.

“Sir?” Tomio asked, dragging Arata out of his thoughts. He was examining him curiously, holding out a waiting yukata.

Arata snatched it up quickly and wrapped it around his shoulders. “Forgive me, Mr. Tomio, I was lost in a memory.”

Tomio smiled pleasantly. “What was it?”

“Oh,” Arata gasped. “It would be inappropriate to speak of, especially to someone I barely know.”

Tomio inched his way over gracefully to stand right in front of him. The light was behind him, casting shadows on his face, his eyes still shone. Arata felt like they were casting blue light where ever they were staring they were so intense.

“Were you thinking of kissing me, Lord Ukitake?”

Air rushed out of Arata’s lungs, his chest tightening in rejection. Sounds were coming out of his mouth, and he tried to make them form words of denial, but all they would make was, “I-ngh-but…”

“It’s all right,” Tomio assured, he grabbed Arata’s hand and pulled it between their chests. “Normally I wouldn’t say anything, but you’ve been flustered this whole time.”

The blush was creeping back into his face, and spreading to his neck and ears. There was no denying that, the only other option was a hasty retreat. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Mr.-Mr. Tomio, I apologize if-if I’ve made you un-uncomfortable.” He stepped off the platform. “I’ll leave you too your work. I can fi-find someone to help you carry these-” He felt a sharp tug at his wrist, spinning him into warm lips.

At first, Arata was too shocked to respond, but when he didn’t pull away, Tomio went further. He wrapped fingers around Arata’s neck, tangling into his white hair. His lips pressed down on him, moving in a way that made Arata moan. _Moan._ He had never done that before. A warm lightness spread across his chest. Tomio pulled him closer, and he allowed himself to go slack. He let his mouth move against Tomio, let himself follow his lead, because _gods_ he knew what he was doing.

Tomio was the first to pull away, after they were both breathless. Arata tried to follow for a few millimeters, earning a chuckle from the man. He tentatively opened his eyes to see a kind smile in front of him, pride surfacing in him when he spotted the dusting of pink across his cheeks. His hand moved from the back of Arata’s head to cup a tanned cheek. “All right?” he asked, his voice light and breathy.

Arata nodded, not trusting his voice. _I just kissed a man. I just kissed a man, and it felt good!_ There was a heat raising through him, and he couldn’t tell what it was, but it was pleasant and he wanted more. 

“Was that your first kiss?” Arata was too spaced out to be offended by the question. He shook his head. Tomio raised an eyebrow. “With a man?”

Oh. “Never with a man,” he clarified. “I’ve never…” 

“Felt like that before?” 

He felt suddenly embarrassed. He tried to duck his head, but strong fingers held his chin in place. “It’s all right. It’s something you get used to. ” He pulled him in for another kiss. 

“Thank you,” Arata said after they parted. “I-it was… nice.”

Tomio chuckled. “I’m glad.” He stepped back, releasing Arata and giving him room to breathe. He piled all the boxes so he could carry them out. He looked over his shoulder, seeing that Arata was still blinking after him. “Would you like to have dinner with me?” 

Arata blinked, taken aback. “M-me?”

“You’re the only one in this room.” There was a knock on the door, Chiyo coming to help move load Tomio’s cart. His eyes flicked to the sound then focused back on Arata. “I’ll tell you what. You don’t have to answer. I get the day off on Friday. After you’re done with your shift that day, come to the shop.” He started to gather his affects in his arms. “I’ll understand if you don’t, I don’t want you making any snap decisions.”

“Friday is… two days from now correct?” Arata asked. He wasn’t as familiar with western units of time.

Tomio nodded. “Preferably close to dinner time.” Chiyo opened the door, and his face slipped into a mask of neutrality. He bowed, magically keeping the boxes balanced. “I hope to see you again, Lord Ukitake.” Arata bowed back, half in a daze at how fast things had gone. And in the second Tomio exited, he couldn’t help but stare after him.

“Arata are you all right?” Chiyo asked. She stepped up to him and put her hand on his forehead. “You look feverish.” 

“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Arata said, snapping back into reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Just because Orochi had made an appearance does not mean that this story ties into any of Spunky0ne's story universes. I just thought it would be a nice little Easter egg.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this thing started as a way for me to practice writing porn for original novels but then plot happened and intricate characters happened and now I’ve written a whole new arch that’s going to make you cry.

Despite everyone’s assurance that he wasn’t in trouble, Arata felt his stomach drop when he checked in for work and the girl at the desk started talking to him. “Captain Kuchiki wanted to speak with you.”

Arata flinched. “Is he in now?” The girl nodded and waved down the hall, like he didn’t know where his office was. 

He walked as slowly as possible to the door and knocked as softly as he could, but the deep “come in” punched him in the gut. He stepped inside. Both the lieutenant and the captain were bent over their work.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Arata asked. He scanned the room, looking to see if his sword was anywhere within reach. 

Kuchiki flicked his eyes up for a second. “Yes, Ukitake, come closer.” Arata shuffled closer, a few feet away from the desk. The captain lifted up a role of parchment. “Your evaluation instructions. You will show up at training ground 5 at the specified time.”

Arata blinked, taken aback. “I’m… being promoted?”

“No, I’ll consider it.” 

Arata wanted to hit himself over the head. “Of course. My apologies,” he said, backing out of the room. “Thank you so much.”

The Captain waved his hand dismissively. “Please inform Officer Shihoin.”

“Yes, sir.”

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 

Tomio was waiting outside the shop by the time he arrived, dressed in a plain peach yukata. There was no one else out on the street, so he turned his head when he heard Arata approach. “Hello,” he greeted.

“Hi,” Tomio pushed himself off the wall. “I’m really glad you decided to come.”

“Me, too.” He scratched the back of his head. There was still a tightness in his chest, and he felt like his limbs were moving awkwardly around him. “I’m sorry I was a little late.”

“It’s all right.” He started walking down the street. It wasn’t that far of a trip, only a few turns. They came through a one person side street that opened up into a small green area. There was low, evenly cut grass and a basket sitting on a blanket in the middle. They were boxed in by the backs of three houses and there were no windows, giving them perfect privacy. 

Tomio sat down and started removing cartons of different foods, some of them still had steam floating off them. “I know you actually need to eat, so I tried to make an actual meal of this.”

“You didn’t have to get all this for me,” Arata said. He recognized stir-fry and anpan buns, but there was also a bowl of chicken still on the bones and strange, yellow cylinder shaped foods. Arata thought it might be fruit. _They must have been very expensive._

“Half of it’s for me!” he said. He grabbed one of the buns and took a big bite. “I may not need food, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it.”

“Good I don’t think I could eat all this by myself.” Tomio brought out two plates and scooped out two portions of stir-fry. 

“Training and drills all day don’t work up an appetite?”

“Usually,” Arata answered, “but today it was patrolling the outer districts with my superior.”

“Your boss?” 

“Yeah, Isuma Shihoin," Arata said, accepting the plate, making sure not to touch the hot bottom. "He’s an officer, but sometimes it feels more like babysitting than working.”

“Sounds like a hassle.” 

“It can be, but he’s very good at what he does. I’m lucky to work with him.” 

“I’ve actually met him. I see him around here a lot, just walking down the street.” Tomio piked at his stir-fry and pulled out all the peppers. "Do you like these?" Arata nodded and he scooped them onto his plate. 

“Do you ever see where he goes?" he asked, trying to resist stuffing all the onions in his mouth. _That's probably not good first impression behavior._ "He disappears into the Rukon every night and no one seems to know what he’s doing.” 

Tomio shook his head, “I’ve only ever seen him pass through.”

Arata’s shoulders slumped. “Damnit,” he mumbled, “Thanks, though. At least now I’ll know where to look if I ever want to find out.” There was a brief silence when they focused solely on eating, but then another question came to his mind. “So what’s it like working in a sewing shop?”

“Busy mostly,” he said. “Miss. Kana’s shop is popular in both the Seireitei and the Upper Rukon.” He took another bite. “I’ve had to make a formal tux for a man in the tenth district in a day, then had to travel the five hours by cart, still stitching together the inseams as I went.”

“That sounds, well, awful.” 

“Those days are few and far between.” He leaned back so that he was laying on the ground, his head almost touching Arata’s thigh. “So what’s it like being a Shinigami?”

“Exhausting,” Arata answered, “I’m not a seated officer, so every second a hollow isn’t attacking is spent training, trying to get stronger.” 

“Sounds awful,” Tomio echoed. 

“It pays off.” Arata hesitated before continuing, “I actually got word today that I’ll be evaluated for promotion.”

Tomio’s eyebrows rose up. “Really? Congratulations!” He sat back up and rooted around the basket. He pulled out a sweet looking pastry, it was drizzled with icing and was as big as his face. “A plus side of not needing food, I don’t have to watch what I eat.”

Arata gave a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes down at the left over vegetables. “Lucky you.”

“Awwwww, don’t be like that.” He held it up to Arata’s lips. “Here, you can have some if you want.”

Arata tried to gauge what the appropriate response was. Should he decline? How big of a bite should he take? What if he chose wrong? 

_Stop worrying so much,_ he chided himself, _there’s no use trying to script myself, if he likes me then I’ll need to know right away._

He took a substantial chuck into his mouth, pulling away slowly to see Tomio’s amused grin. The pastry was fluffy, and it flattened in his mouth. He hadn’t known that lemon could be placed with something sweet. 

“So what will that mean for you?” he asked, pulling the food away. Arata just blinked. He couldn’t remember what they were talking about before. “If you get promoted.”

“Oh, nothing much. The usual things probably: higher pay, more responsibilities. They’ll probably let me live in an apartment instead of the dorms.” He shrugged. “Might get assigned a tour of the world of the living.”

“Have you ever been before?”

“Not that I remember.” He saw Tomio waiting for clarification, so he obliged. “I’m… not actually a noble. I was adopted when I was three. I don’t remember anything before then.”

“Oh my God! I can’t imagine coming here when I was a child. This place is terrifying enough as an adult.”

“I can’t imagine it either.” Arata laughed. “We try to make the transition as seamless as possible, but it’s tough. I’ve never met anyone who thought death was fun.” 

“No,” Tomio chuckled, “But some find it amusing in hindsight. You can go to parties and death stories will be told by the fires.”

“Yours as well?” 

“Depending on how drunk I am.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They gained a sort calm sort of sadness. “It isn’t a fun tale, and definitely not one for a first date.” 

Arata nodded. Racking his brain for something to change the subject. “So how long have you been working for Miss. Kana?”

Tomio brightened instantly. To watch him talk about his job, fabrics, stitches and the designs, was breath taking. It was obvious he loved what he did, and needed little else in life. His eyes twirled around and his hands danced as he tried to describe all the things that brightened up his world. Arata felt like a thief staring at his stash, and felt a greedy urge to just keep him like this. 

As they talked, they shifted closer. Unconsciously, like sleeping men turning to the warmth at night, the moved around each other, ending up side by side, laying on the ground with their legs tangled together and hands brushing down their sides. The stars shifted around them, and the moon was high in the sky before Arata sighed at it. 

“I have to go.” 

“Are you sure?” Tomio whined. He rolled them over and laid Arata’s head on his chest. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Me neither,” Arata admitted, “I’ve been having fun.” 

“I’m glad.” He pulled Arata’s chin off his shoulder for a kiss. It was just peck, but Arata followed, pressing closer. His lips were chapped, and Arata liked running his tongue over the bumps. Tomio seemed pleasantly surprised, and only hesitated for a moment. He pulled Arata on top of him, so his legs were straddling his hips. They could feel each other’s heat through the thin layers of clothing. 

They broke away, breathless and flushed. Arata looked down into dazed blue eyes. He probably looked the same. A smile was creeping over his face. The giggling was unexpected, but once he started it was hard to stop. Tomio raised an eyebrow, and Arata rolled off him to try and covered his mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “this is all still new for me. I promise this won’t happen again.”

Tomio rolled again, so they were back to chest. “It’s all right,” he said, pecking him on the cheek. “It may take a while, and I don’t mind. I admit my first kiss was a bit… grabby.”

Arata sat up, and the shift in weight brought his attention to their erections. Heat instantly hit him in the face. He ducked his head and started reaching for the container. Tomio, kind enough not to say anything, helped him. 

Once everything was packed away, they sat with the basket in between them, neither wanting to move, both just staring at each other.

“When we leave here,” Arata started slowly, “how should we behave?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I know there are people who don’t like what we’re doing. About two months ago, I encountered a group who attacked this man because of what we’re doing. They trashed their shop and beat him. If we hadn’t been passing by, they would have killed him.”

“Oh, those people,” Tomio scowled.

“You know who they are?” he asked. _I haven’t even described the men._

“No, I’m just speaking of ‘them’ in general,” he heaved a loud breath before continuing, “There isn’t a lot of problems in the first district. The lingering Shinigami stop fights no matter what they’re about. I’m not afraid, and I can’t stand hiding.” He gathered Arata’s hands into his own. “The real question is, what are you comfortable with? I know this is still knew for you.”

Arata looked down at their hands, thinking back to when he and Suki had done this in the past. They had a nice warm glow spreading around them, but it wasn’t sticky and uncomfortable. _I’ve never liked doing this before._ He threaded their fingers together. “This is nice.” 

“In public?” Arata nodded, glad that it made Tomio smile. He picked up the basket and pulled Arata to his feet. “We’ll need to get you back, don’t we?” 

They made their way back down the street. People did stare, some like they were observing a carnival show, and others that looked like they were studying shit on the street. But no one attacked them. Arata didn’t see anyone he recognized, but that didn’t make any of the attention any less nerve racking. 

“Do they always stare?” he asked softly. 

Tomio’s thumb moved in soothing circles down the back of his hand. “Only when they have nothing better to do.”

“Are you sure this is okay with you?” he asked. “You live here, I’m going back into the Seireitei, you’ll have to deal with them and-”

Tomio pulled him in closer, the basket pushing into his side. “Stop worrying about me.” He pecked Arata on the cheek. “I can take care of myself.” He pointed across the street, to what looked like a florists. “When Miss Kana is feeling an ‘inspiration,’ she makes one of us go there and buy a whole bunch of flowers. They have to be the freshest, otherwise they wilt before she’s done with them.”

“That sounds a bit… eccentric.” 

Tomio shook his head. “She’s an artist, it’s what they do. It allows her to make the most breathtaking patterns, so it’s not that much of a bother.” 

Tomio started giving him an insider tour of the street. The best restaurants, the best hiding places, the places that overcharged, and the ones with the best deals. It carried them all the way back to the shop. 

“I’d like to see you again,” Arata said, once they were just outside the door. 

Tomio smiled. “I’d like that, too.”

“I might be busy,” Arata admitted, “With training, but my next day off is in 4 days. Can I see you then?” He pushed the basket so that it was swinging on Tomio’s arm. “I’ll treat.”

“All right,” Tomio chuckled. “At sundown again. I never know how busy it’ll be, but I should be off by then.”

“Great!” Arata slowly disentangled their fingers. Tomio started to turn towards the door, but Arata pulled him back in for one more kiss. Tomio blushes before disappearing into the building, and Arata stayed there for a moment, just absorbing information. 

The walk back to his room felt like a haze. He was floating on a cloud, and he didn’t come down until he unlocked his door. He dosed dreamily on his bed until he fell asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

“What’s with you recently?” Isuma snapped out of nowhere.

Arata looked up from the street they were walking down. “Huh?”

“You’ve been quiet, but not in a mopey kind of way. You start dating someone?”

Arata didn’t see any reason to lie, especially if it was that obvious. “Yes.”

“How long?”

“A few weeks. We met at the spring ceremony.”

Isuma clapped him on the back. “You sleezy dog,” he smirked, “way to multitask.” 

“That wasn’t what I was intending when I went,” Arata mumbled. He was glad Isuma wasn’t asking questions. It wasn’t that Arata was going to hide Tomio, but he hadn’t told anyone yet, not even his father, and he should be the first to know. 

They had arrived at their destination. The training ground was empty, but the ground was scuffed, there were little flecks of blood that trailed away from the center. Captain Kuchiki was standing in the middle, Lt. off to the side, and a smaller, more indistinct man standing on the other side, probably form the fourth. 

“All right,” Isuma huffed, pushing him forward. “Good luck. Don’t die.”

“Thanks,” Arata said. He stepped towards the captain, until they were a few feet away. He bowed low in greeting, but it was not returned.

“Raise your sword,” he ordered. Arata took a few steps back, their swords sang in unison as they were drawn together.

Captain Kuchiki didn’t waste a moment. There was a brief twitch to the right that gave him the warning he needed. His block came just in time.

_His speed is incredible,_ flew across his mind instantly alongside, _I can’t believe he’s holding back._ He had to be, there was no way Arata would be able to keep up. 

The flurry of movement was never ending, Arata was only able to defend, but he held his ground and stayed out of the sharp blade’s reach.

There was a pause in the onslaught, and Arata stabbed at an opening. It was deflected instantly, the force throwing him back. Expecting to be attacked, he used the momentum to roll away. When he righted himself, the Captain still stood where he’d been. Arata took advantage of the break and held his blade out. “Shift, Kisetsu no Utsurikaewari!”

The spark of light covered his movement as he flashed stepped forward to strike. 

It was much easier to keep up with the Captain’s attacks, and he was given more opportunities to retaliate. The long shaft of the spear was perfect for blocking this fighting style, but he had to make sure he didn’t he hit his hands, and to make the shift between attacking and defending as seamless as possible. 

Captain Kuchiki stabbed at his side. Arata knocked it away in a sweeping block, hard enough to shove his arm out of the way, revealing his side. Arata fainted an attack, and when the Captain made to defend, he changed his angle in an instant, and struck at his face.

The blow landed. Captain Kuchiki staggered back, his eyes closing foe a moment, and Arata tried to follow up. The next attack was quickly deflected, even when he couldn’t see. The shock froze Arata for a second too long.

“Scatter, Senbonsakura.”

_Oh, shit._

The sword dissolved in front of his eyes, the pink petals flying off in an invisible wind. They gathered together and flung Arata’s way, the razor edges slicing into his skin. He tried to regain his footing, but they just kept coming. I’m going to have to freeze these. He twirled his spear up and around himself, catching most of the petals. He heard the tittle of them falling to the ground. The few left retreated, defending against Arata’s next volley.

The sting of the petals pressed into the back of his mind, while he focused on getting the rest out of the way. Captain Kuchiki was careful to keep blades of Arata’s spear away from the petals. He defended attacks with his hilt and sweeps in with his floating razor petals. 

Arata heard a crackling behind him. Instantly recognizing it, he did not move out of the way in time. The cloud of blades flew over him with a force that knocked him off his feet, the impact lighting his back on fire. His eyes blinked for a second, his grip loosened…

There was a fluttering all around him, like a thousand butterflies. He opened his eyes. The petals were gathered in a tight circle around his neck. If he moved an inch in any direction, his throat would be shredded. 

The Captain stood over him, his cool eyes staring down at him impassively, the true embodiment of a death god. _He could kill me in an instant._

“Why do you fight?”

The question caught him off guard, but he knew the answer. “To protect people from the hollows.”

“Even those you hate?”

Arata took a few moments to think about this. The unfriendly nobles flashed into his mind, Orochi, Councilor Asami, the men that attacked Ricky and Juan. Of course he didn’t like them, but the result of a hollow attack was oblivion, crushing the soul into nothing. The idea of eternal blackness, and unthinking void was terrifying, unfathomable, and Arata would not wish that on anyone. “Even those I hate,” he responded honestly.

The petals fluttered away, solidifying back into his sword. The Captain sheathed it calmly, turning his back without a second glance. “You’re dismissed.”

Arata heard quick, light footsteps coming towards him, so he didn’t bother moving. A young man came into his view, and he instantly started puttering around and examining him. The adrenaline was beginning to fade and a soreness was setting in. He realized the wounds were strategically placed. His wrists and lower torso were untouched, as well as any other weak points, but virtually everywhere else was stinging with needle like pain, and a warm, sticky pool of blood was starting to form under him. _He’s so precise with his shikai._

“I’m not allowed to heal all of these,” the boy informed him, “but if all of these remain open you’ll end up unconscious.” Arata nodded his understanding. The boy rolled up his sleeves, the cloth in tatters, revealing the scarlet paper-thin cuts trailing up his arm. The healing energy glowed around the medic’s hands, flowing across Arata’s skin like cool refreshing water. He rolled over when instructed and he fixed the ones on his back. He left his legs and chest. 

When the healer was done, Arata staggered to his feet, instantly dreading the long trek back to his room. _I’d rather have healthy legs than arms right now_ , he thought, _though I suspect that this is intentional._ The mousy boy tried to help him, but Arata waved him off. “Thank you for your help, but I’ll have to make it back on my own.” He took his first hesitant steps forward, passing the captain and the lieutenant on his way out. 

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
The lieutenant watched as the kid limped off the training field. “I’ve never seen you go that fast on a grunt before.”

Captain Kuchiki shot him a sideways glare. “He was merely lucky.”

“Ha! No one is lucky for twenty minutes! Admit it he was way faster than you thought, and you had to go into shikai to keep up with him!”

“That will be enough,” the captain snapped, the genuine anger silenced him immediately. Captain Kuchiki stared off after the speck of white. _This just means I’ll have to make an extra report to the General._  
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Arata’s journey back to the barracks was long, but tolerable. The thought of the empty communal baths and hot water kept him going. _If I get back and rest, I’ll be able to make it to Tomio’s._ The soreness of his muscles became the prominent motivator, so much so that he couldn’t feel his cuts anymore.

He stopped by his room to grab a robe and fudoshi before heading to the baths. The night shift was still sleeping, and people off duty were scattered across the districts by now. The barracks were a dead zone. 

The bathrooms were pristine, the pale blue tiles always glowed. The perks of having a rich captain. The five individual tubs were sectioned off across from the showers and sinks. It wasn’t often he got to use the tubs, and never had he been alone. He stripped as the hot water poured in, steam quickly filling the cubical. Thinking the water would sting his wounds, he closed his eyes and plunged in, wishing to get it over with quickly. The only sensation he was given though, was the slight burn of the water. A shock ran up his spine at the absence of pain. The steam and the bubbles blocked his view, so he stood up to stare down at his clear chest.

His healed legs.

He blinked, trying to understand what he was looking at. He pulled his leg up for closer inspection. There had obviously been wounds, there were thin gaps in his leg hair, but the skin had seamlessly knit itself back together, it wasn’t even irritated anymore.

_It hasn’t even been an hour!_ he thought, _I should have these for at least a day!_ He traced a thumb over the smooth skin. _It isn’t possible the medic healed me without my noticing. So what is this? It’s not possible!_

_It has happened, so it is obviously possible,_ Hondr’s voice boomed inside his mind.

_Is this your doing?_ Arata asked.

_We did nothing, this is something else._

_Me? But I’ve never healed this fast before._

_It is not you, it is something else._

Arata groaned. _I hate it when you talk like this. What is it?_

_We have never known what it was,_ was the stoic reply.

_If it is there, then how do you not know whatever this is? Is it good? Bad? Is it part of me or something invading my reiatsu?_

_We do not know, because you do not know._

_Well, a lot of good you are!_ Arata snapped.

Arata could almost see Hondr bristle. _I did not hear you complaining when I was defending you against the Captain!_

Arata held his breath for seven seconds, then let it out slowly. _You’re right. I’m sorry, Hondr._

_I know._

Arata sank further into the tub, trying to relax the knot in his stomach. Curiosity started to burn in his heart, but at the moment it was being overshadowed by his eyes drooping in weariness. He dragged himself out of the water, barely making to his bed before he collapsed. The last effort he put into consciousness was setting an alarm, so he could see Tomio tonight.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those of you paying attention, you're probably thinking 'oh I've seen this chapter before' that's because it's the same chapter, but I've updated the previous chapters and now they are much better, thanks to the lovely and incredible Udunie! I beta her work http://archiveofourown.org/works/3262907/chapters/7115447 Room 27, so she turned around and did the same for me. ^_^ There aren't any major changes except for at the end of this chapter, where I FINALLY ADDED A SEX SCENE!!!!! It's tiny and barely 300 words but I'm counting it! Go read it and tell me if it's hot or not.

Arata came in the next day and punched his time card before looking for Isuma. As he walked away from the front desk, the girl there called out to him. “Sir, there’s messages for you.”

“For me?” he asked. He hadn’t had news in a while. He kept forgetting to check. The girl produced two scrolls from her drawer and handed them to him before going about her day. 

The first was from the western gates security.

_Arata Ukitake,_  
There has been an incident where a Mr. Tomio Johnson tried to enter the Seireitei in pursuit of you. This is the latest of several instances, and he has been turned away. Please inform him that if his behavior persists he will be detained.  
Sincerely  
Shuhei Hisage  
6th seat 9th division. 

The short letter made Arata shudder. _I didn’t know Tomio was trying to get in to see me._ He’d need to talk to him about it. He read the letter over again. _Johnson? What a strange name._

The second one was from his own captain. 

_Arata Ukitake,  
Due to your excellent work ethics and performance, you have been promoted to 15th seat of the sixth division. You will meet Lt. Shirogane in his office at 9:00 to receive your new assignments..._

 _Shit._ He looked at the clock. It was 9:15. The Lieutenant’s and Captain’s office was three stories up, but he made it in an impressive two minutes without flash step. Shirogane was sitting in his chair, his feet propped up on the desk.

“Not the best way to start a new position, kid,” he tutted, “You sleep in or something?” 

“No, I’m sorry. I actually just got the message.”

“Oh yeah,” he drawled, “That hell butterfly thing. They still haven’t fixed that?” 

“No,” he said, “I think they’ve stopped at this point.”

“Whelp it’ll make your job a hell of lot harder.” He stood up. “Come on, I’m supposed to show you what you’re going to do at your desk.” 

The lower officers were stationed a floor down in a sea of cubicles, only a few out of the many actually doing any work. 

“This is yours.” Shirogane pointed to the one closest to the door. It was already laden with a neat stack of papers and had scuffs and scratches on it from previous owners. “Paperwork is minimal, it’s all due at the end of the week. You’ll have to go over small reports and pass them on up to me. You’ll still have your patrols and your missions, but all of it needs to be done by the seventh day. No one will tell you when or how you spend your time at this desk, so long as you get your work done. Any questions?” 

Arata nodded. He sat down in the worn chair, leaning back to make sure it wouldn’t collapse on him. “Yes, sir. Is there any way I can apply for a gate pass?”

Shirogane reached over, opened a lower drawer, and pulled out a generic form. “This one. Who ya getting it for?”

“A friend,” he said.

Shirogane raised an eyebrow. “You better not put that in the ‘to whom is it intended’ line. You won’t get it approved that way.”

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
“Hey, you.” Tomio was waiting right outside the gate. Once Arata was past the line, he was enveloped in a tight hug. He was quickly getting used to this kind of greeting. 

“Hi,” he responded. He caught the eye of the guardian, who was glaring at them. He ducked his head and pulled Tomio away. “So, your last name is Johnson?”

Tomio looked floored. “What?”

“Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have started with that.” He said by way of apology. “I got a message from the squad who runs this gate that I should tell you to stop trying to get into the Seireitei.”

“Oh,” Tomio’s eyebrows knitted together. “That might have been for the time I tried to flash an expired pass to get through.”

“Tomio!”

“I know, I know. It was the day of your test or whatever it’s called, and I wanted to surprise you when you got back.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Arata asked as they turned down into the side street to the vacant lot. “And why do you keep doing it when you know it’s not going to work?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. It’s not like I’m planning it every time they aren’t looking. It’s like I’m near the wall, and I’ve got nothing better to do, so I just go up to the gate and see if the guard is more lenient.”

“Tomio,” he sighed, “They think you’re the worst spy in existence.”

He shrugged it off. “I’ll stop then. Would hate for you to get arrested.” 

“Thank you.” He didn’t want to tell him about the paperwork he filed, just in case it didn’t go through. 

They settled down on the district’s wall, Arata resting his head on his chest. They hadn’t brought anything, it was too late to eat and there wasn’t a moon to watch, it just got steadily darker.

“So,” Tomio drawled. “Can I ask you a question that you promise not to get mad at me for?”

Arata tensed. That sentence is never followed by anything good. “Yes?”

He pulled Arata’s face up so they were eye-to-eye. “When are you going to tell your father about me?”

Arata couldn’t help the flinch. He knew he’d been avoiding it. “I don’t know, the next time I see him? I’ve been busy these last few weeks with the training, and now with the promotion…” 

“Shhhhh.” Tomio pecked him on the lips. “You don’t have to get defensive. I was just thinking about it since we’ve been very… public here.”

“You mean you’ve been very public,” Arata muttered. 

Tomio shrugged unapologetically. “I’m not hiding.”

“Neither am I!” _Except I haven’t told anyone I care about… and haven’t really made an effort to meet up with my father since …_

“It’s all right. I don’t care.” Tomio’s left shoulder jumped under his cheek. 

“I don’t really think you mean that.”

Tomio fidgeted. “It’s just, I’m not used to hiding anymore, and even though you say that it’s all right out here in the districts, I’m still worried vicariously for you. And it also… feels like you aren’t going to stick around.”

“What?” Arata pulled out of Tomio’s arms, who was now fixated on the tuff of grass by his leg. 

“I know this is your first relationship,” he said quickly, “and I get you need to time to process, honestly I do. I’m not going to force you to tell anyone, but it’s just how I feel. And I’m actually growing to like you.”

Arata was floored. He needed a quick solution that showed Tomio how much he was wrong, but his voice was stuck in his throat. So he dove on to Tomio’s mouth, trying to stop his back peddling. Tomio didn’t push him away, which he took as a good sign. 

He only pulled away when he knew he could say what he wanted. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I promise, when I get to my apartment tonight, I’ll invite myself over and tell him.”

Tomio’s shoulders slumped in relief, and the kiss he receives as reward was heart melting. “Thank you.”

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
Arata sat at the breakfast table early so there wouldn’t be anyone around. He wasn’t able to sit still, too caught in his thoughts to be calm. He had waited to visit his father to make sure he was in good health. It was silly to think that this would send him into a fit, but he was imagining all the worst case scenarios in an endless cycle.

The loud sound of the door opening made him jump. Ukitake came through and sat down, not even pausing to question why Arata was there. “Good morning.”

“G’morning.” He wanted to say more, but his voice caught in his throat, and before he could fix it his father said, “Kaien has taken Rukia under his wing.” And the conversation moved on from there, spanning through the meal.

As the plates were being cleared away, Arata kept his head down. He felt his father’s gaze on him, but couldn’t bring himself to meet it. “Arata,” he said softly, “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“Yes,” Arata mumbled to the table.

“Now?”

Arata lifted his head, trying not to look pathetic. “Give me a second?” Ukitake looked worried, but nodded. Arata took a few calming breaths before saying, “It has something to do with… relationships.”

There was a short pause that made Arata’s heart skip. “You’ve said that you aren’t interested in pursuing one. Has that changed?” 

“Well… yes, but…” he bit his lip. “I felt like I should tell you…”

“Arata,” Ukitake sighed. “You have never had trouble telling me anything before, nor have I ever had trouble accepting what you have to say. Please, this is getting painful for both of us.”

One more deep breath. “I’ve been seeing a man romantically for the past few months.” He hadn’t realized that he had closed his eyes until a few moments after he finished. He slowly lifted his gaze to his father’s face, taken aback by the look of… relief that was so evident. 

“By the way you were going on,” he said, failing to contain his laughter, “I thought it was going to be something awful!” 

Arata’s heart jumped out of his chest, his muscles relaxing. “Like what?” he asked.

Ukitake shook his head. “I don’t know. Animals? Or gods forbid children!”

“Ugh!” Arata’s stomach flipped over itself at the thought. “Don’t ever say that again!”

“Agreed.” He slid closer, so they were sitting next to each other, almost bumping shoulders. “So do I get to meet him?” 

“Actually, you’ve already met him. He’s Miss Kana’s assistant. The one who helped us for the Spring ceremonies.” 

“Ah, Tomio right?” Arata nodded. “He was very kind.”

“And… you’re sure you’re all right with this?” 

“Of course!” He saw Arata sag onto the table with relief. “What did you think I was going to say?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen a lot of people react differently. I didn’t want to freak you out or anything.”

“I’m just glad,” he said honestly. “I thought for the longest time that you wouldn’t want to be with anyone, and being in love is one of the best feelings in the world. I want you to experience that, with whoever you choose. It gives me a chance to do fun embarrassing parent tropes.” 

“Oh gods!”

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
“Ta-da!” Arata said, presenting Tomio with the laminated paper.

Tomio took it from him, casting a small reflective light across his face. “What is it?”

“It’s an ongoing Seireitei pass,” Arata explained. “Barring an emergency, you’ll be able to get in and out.” He felt the blush creeping up his cheeks. “So you can come see me, if you want.” 

Tomio contemplated it for a moment before pulling him into a hug. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know these existed.” 

“Perks of being an officer.”

“Oh?” Tomio pulled back and nuzzled into his neck, “Can I expect more fancy gifts, Mr. Officer?”

“As many as you want,” he said, pecking him on the cheek.  
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000  
When Arata got up to leave, close to midnight, Tomio caught him by the sleeve. “Stay.” Arata froze. He’d never stayed the night before, and there were… connotations to go with that. He was willing, obviously, but still nervous. 

Tomio tugged again. “You don’t have to be at work tomorrow, please?” He stood and pulled him to the back of the shop. His lack of resistance was answer enough.

They only went two doors down the hall. Arata had never been in his room before. It was furnished traditionally, with the bed mat already rolled out. There was another door frame conveniently missing a door.

“The bathroom’s through there.” Tomio said, going through his small closet and handing him a light yukata. “Go and clean up, I’ll join you in a moment.”

It was darker in the bathroom and it was a struggle to move about, but he got out of his uniform and into the robe before Tomio returned with a basin of warm water. He rung a cloth in it and wiped his face, then offered it to Arata. 

The momentum of working was starting to wear off, and Arata’s eyes were beginning to droop. Tomio had to pull him back out as he staggered into bed. It was a colder night, and he was happy when Tomio pulled him into his side. 

“I hope I don’t kick,” he mumbled.

Tomio chuckled. “I’ll be sure to kick back if it becomes a problem.”

“I haven’t shared a bed with anyone before.”

He was answered with a slow, gentle kiss. “Goodnight, Arata.”

It felt like he had only closed his eyes for a moment before he was being shaken awake. “Arata, there’s a messenger at the door.” 

“Tell them to leave it,” he groaned. Tomio was still lying next to him, and he buried his face in his chest.

“Officer Ukitake!” 

Arata jumped at the address. Kiki was standing in the doorway, along with a generic message corps from the 2nd. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, his eyes covered with his hood.

Arata struggled out of bed, straightening his clothes as he walked to meet the man. He bowed politely. “I apologize for my behavior, sir.” 

He passed his message without a word. Arata took it upon himself to see the man out.

“What is it?” Tomio asked as he crawled back under the covers. 

Arata held it up to the see, pointing at the red seals on both ends. “Those mean it’s classified, I probably shouldn’t open it until I get back to my apartment.” He placed in the pockets of his uniform. 

“Ohhhh, classified. Being an officer sure is exciting.” Tomio’s eyes seemed to linger a little too long for Arata’s comfort. Tomio noticed and shook his head. “No, no, I’m just curious, I’m not going to look at it, obviously.”

“Good.” Arata slid back into his arms. Tomio pulled him into a barrage of kisses. They curled into each other. Tomio’s tongue slowly worked into Arata’s mouth, exploring everywhere. Arata liked the heat. Tomio shifted so he was laying on top of him. Arata liked the weight, the heat, it had been very cold outside the covers. He wrapped his leg around Tomio’s waist, making their hips grind together. 

Time slid into the back of Arata’s mind, moving slowly and pleasantly numbing. 

He didn’t snap back into reality until Tomio started undoing his belt. He caught his breath and stiffened under his hands. Tomio must have felt the change and retreated, resting his grip on his waist. “All right?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding stiffly, “Just nervous.” He reached up to reciprocate, refusing to be passive in this. 

He got the knot loose before Tomio grabbed his wrists and pulled them up by his white hair. “We don’t have to have sex.”

 _Sex_ hadn’t even crossed Arata’s mind. It was definitely what he was expecting, but hearing the word out loud it sound so much more foreign. _What if Tomio isn’t willing to be patient?_

He compromised by pressing his face into his neck. “I’m sorry,” he said, not even sure what he was apologizing for. 

Tomio rolled them back, lifting Arata’s head to his chest, making sure they could still look at each other. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I know you’ve never been with anyone.”

“I know you know,” he replied. “But I don’t even know… And I feel like it’s a conversation we need to have… right?” He wished Tomio would let go of his chin.

Tomio nodded. “You know how a man and a woman have sex, yes?”

“Ugh, yes.” Shunsui had told him in alarming detail. 

“Well, there are a lot of different ways to enjoy each other. No one has to stick his dick in if neither of us doesn’t want to.” 

“Stick it in?” Tomio left the question pointedly unanswered, leaving realization to dawn on Arata’s face. “Oh, damn,” he whispered. “Is that… really?” 

Tomio giggled. “I know, it sounds weird, but trust me, it’s the best feeling.” 

Arata was skeptical, but then again, a few months ago, kissing men was a skeptical notion as well. So anything could be possible. 

“But that’s not the only way we can be together,” Tomio reiterated. He pulled himself up to mouth at Arata’s collarbone, never breaking eye contact. “You have strong hands, I bet your callouses would be fantastic. I’d love to know how good your mouth feels.” He dragged his lips down his chest, barely touching the skin. Arata’s muscles jumped at the sensation. He’d always liked Tomio’s mouth. “Thighs work just as well.” He kissed his way back up to Arata’s lips. “And nothing happens without your consent. I want you to know what you want and to process everything. I would hate to take advantage.” He sighed, relaxing back into the bed.

Arata wouldn't let him. He followed Tomio back to the mattress. He almost attacked his lips, nipping lightly. Tomio arched up into him, clutching at his shoulders and pulling him closer. This time, Arata pulled at their clothing, until they were completely naked. and pressed down against his thigh. The shock of the heat made him gasp. 

Tomio trailed his hands down Ararta's chest, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He wrapped his fingers around both of their dicks and started to thrust up against him. Arata had to brace himself on his elbows and break away from the kiss, because it was just so hard to _breathe_ Tomio was panting against his neck, making his skin too hot. Arata couldn't control his hips. Everything's too hot. Too much. _Please, please, please..._

"Please," he whispered, not intending to voice it. 

"Shhhhh. I've got you." Tomio pressed his face into his shoulder and just _bit_. 

Coming was a whole body affair, his muscles convulsing in time with his spurts, landing on Tomio's stomach. He locked his arms so that he wouldn't collapse onto him. Tomio pushed him over and straddled his chest in one smooth motion, rutting into Arata's stomach until he felt the hot sting of his cum. At that point he was too floaty to comprehend. 

Tomio rolled off him, panting and staring up at the ceiling. Arata was floored, didn't know what to do now, but then Tomio pulled him into his chest, and it made Arata's muffled thoughts blank out into white noise. "Are you all right?"

Arata took a moment to gather the effort of forming words. "Fantastic," he sighed. He curled in closer, not caring about the sticky mess on their chests.

Tomio hummed happily. “By the way, you’re a clingy sleeper.”

Arata groaned, hiding his face. “Did I keep you up?”

“Surprisingly no. When Kiki came in you were just wrapped around me. You’re such a cute little wolf!” 

“Shut up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While editing M.J put #dreamdad over the entire Ukitake section, and she's totally right. I couldn't see sweet Ukitake taking it any other way.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello anyone! Just an announcement. We have a new beta joining MJ Blacklake. Show your love to Udunie! She does a lot of really kinky porn in the Teenwolf fandom on AO3, go check some of it out if you want!
> 
> Also I went back into last chapter and added seeeeexxxxx, go back if you didn't see it and tell me how gross it is.

Arata hurried to the shop, the sun already far away. He was surprised to find the lights were still shining through the window. Even as he knocked on the door, he could hear people bustling about. Kiki opened the door, her arms filled with what looked like blankets. She didn’t speak as she led him into the storage room, where Tomio was furiously working at his bench, his hands almost a blur. He did a double take as Arata entered. He spared a smile before turning back to his work. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Arata said, tip toeing his way through the room. Fabrics were piled everywhere, barely leaving room for a path. “Though I guess you’re busy anyway.”

It looked almost painful for Tomio to put down his work. He pulled Arata into his lap and pecked him on the cheek. “Yes, we’re restocking, and Miss Kana is still sick. It’s been hectic with just the two of us.”

Arata stayed silent for a moment, wondering if he should ask. “It’s more than just a cold, isn’t it?”

Tomio shook his head. “We don’t know what it is, but it’s getting worse. She can hardly get out of bed.”  
Arata could see the stress in Tomio’s face, his smooth skin creased with it. He stepped around the chair and pressed down on his shoulders, massaging gently. Tomio moaned in appreciation. “Do you want me to go?”

“Want?” he said, blanketing his hands over Arata’s. “No. Should you… yes?”

“I can help,” Arata said, keeping up the massage. “I can’t sew, but I can organize all these fabrics, if you tell me where they go.” 

Tomio still looked hesitant. “I don’t want to keep you, it’s tiring work.” 

Arata tilted his head up so he could place a quick kiss on his lips. “I want to help you. If I go back to my room right now, I’d just be laying in my bed thinking of how unfair this is.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Tomio’s mouth. “All right. They get sorted by type, which I already did, but they also go by color, rainbow style. They get placed,” he pointed above their heads, where the racks were, “up there. It’s just a bunch of heavy lifting.” 

Arata nodded. “I will take on such an arduous task.”

They worked mostly in silence, pleasantly broken when Tomio had to direct him. It was a simple, mind numbing task, and it was welcome. At one point, Kiki brought in food, looking exhausted.

There were three stacks left when he felt a hand on his shoulder, making him jump. Tomio pulled his hands away from his work. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

“I didn’t bring anything to wear.”

Tomio started guiding him out of the room. “I have a robe you can use.” 

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Arata woke to a sharp kick to his stomach. His fist flew into the air before he was fully conscious. His eyes shot open. Tomio’s face was twisted in pain, his limbs twitching sporadically. _Must be a nightmare._

Arata made to shake him awake, but Tomio jerked away with a shout, falling out of the bed, his movements becoming more and violent, flinging around and kicking down at the floor boards. He jumped out of bed, dodging flailing limbs to pin him down. “Tomio! It’s all right. Wake up! Please! Tomio!”

His eyes shot open, darting around, like he didn’t know where he was. Arata released him and he scrambled away. He patted himself down, but he didn’t seem to be looking for anything. His eyes were still frenzied, still in the dream. 

“Tomio,” Arata said, trying to be soothing. This behavior was frightening him. He’d seen night terrors like this… He’d _felt_ them before. When all he could see in his sleep were invading tubes and sharp needles and manic laughter. He inched closer, eventually able to capture his face in his hands. “You’re safe, please, Tomio look at me. You’re safe.” 

Tomio reached out and laid his fists on his chest, clutching at his robes. It seemed to relax him. He stood up, took two deep shaking breaths, and started passing around the room. Arata got up and grabbed his hand, not stopping him. Tomio looked startled and slowed his frantic pace. “I’m sorry. I-I- I just need to move.”

“Okay.” 

He shifted on his feet when Arata didn’t move. “You should go back to bed. This is going to take a while.”

Arata slid his hand into his. “I’ll walk with you.”

They walked around the room for almost a half hour before Arata was able to coax Tomio back to bed, and another for him to fall into an exhausted sleep. Arata was slow to follow. When he woke, Tomio was still curled up in his arms. He carefully disentangled himself, and went into the kitchen. _What kind of tea is he always drinking? Is it green or that earl grey…?_ He trailed off as he saw Kiki sitting at the table, a pot of tea already on the stove. 

“Is that the tea Tomio likes?”

Kiki nodded. “Would you like me to make some more?”

“Yes, please.” She stood up and pulled out the tea leaves. “Tomio was really agitated, I want to do something nice for him.”

“Yes, I heard.” She half smiled, and Arata’s cheeks flushed. They could be very… loud. 

She set more tea into the kettle and lit the stove again. “Well, I’ll let you two be alone,” she said with finality, then took her cup and disappeared. 

He heard Tomio’s soft tread enter the kitchen but didn’t turn around. He was rewarded with a careful hug and a hesitant peck on his cheek. “Good morning,” he greeted. 

“Morning,” Tomio mumbled into his shoulder. “This for me?” 

“I’m never up before you. It’s a rare occasion. I thought I should celebrate. Kiki showed me how everything worked.” 

“Good girl.” He pulled out cups and sets up the table. Arata finished cooking, splitting them into two portions before settling down with his tea in hand. He sips slowly, watching Tomio as he ate. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Tomio asked after a few minutes. He wouldn’t look up from his food.

“No, I was just a little… shocked.”

He sighed. “I guess you want an explanation.”

“You don’t have to,” Arata forced himself to say.

Tomio fidgeted for a moment. “I usually don’t… go back to sleep. I pace all night. I don’t know…” He trailed off, staring off into the corner. He took a deep breath and seemed to gain strength, at least enough to look Arata in the eye. “I’ll tell you everything.” 

Arata took his hand, stroking the back with his thumb. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Tomio just sipped his tea. When they were finished, they headed back into the room. Arata settled on top of the bed, but Tomio stepped off into the far corner, pulling a small chest out of his cabinet. He set it down beside them on the floor. Arata held out his arms, and Tomio gladly fell into them.

“I was a very sick person when I was alive,” Tomio started. “I’ve told you my mother was from Japan, but my Father was from a very far away land, England. I don’t know exactly where it is, but it’s somewhere in Europe.”

“That’s why you’re so pale,” Arata said, trailing his hand up Tomio’s face.

His lips twitched up for a moment. “We traveled around on boats and merchant roads until I was seven. I loved riding horses and reading with my father. Then something went… wrong inside me. I started stumbling into things for no reason. Standing up and running made me dizzy, no matter how much I tried to push myself. My muscles were disappearing. And nothing anyone ever did could stop it.” Another deep breath. “It was like every year there was less and less of me. By the time I was twelve I was in a wheel chair. I never left my house after that.”

Arata was conscious that his breathing had synchronized with Tomio’s and he tried to make it more even. He couldn’t imagine living like that. To be confined to one space…

Tomio shimmied around so he could reach into the chest. In his hand was a small pile of patches. He let Arata examine them. There was stitching decorating them, complex, the thread almost glittering, in the forms of a bird of paradise, a kistune, a blooming orchid. “My mother taught me how to do this, when I was kept in my room.” 

They looked very old, they were probably the first things Tomio owned when he got here. “They’re beautiful.”

He gingerly took them back and placed them in the chest. “I died when I was eighteen, two years more than they gave me.” He huffed a breath. “Those last two years, everyone was telling me how grateful I should be. Even when the muscles in my chest collapsed, I should be grateful to be alive.” The words had a bitter taste that Arata had never heard in his voice before. 

He kept his hand moving, pressing soothingly into his back and shoulders. “So you were dreaming about still being immobile?”

Tomio nodded. “I’m lying in my bed and my mother is sitting over me crying, and doctors are there carrying me over to my chair…” His voice hitched. He pressed his face into Arata’s shoulder. “It takes me a while to remember that was a long time ago. 

“It sounds terrifying, but I can’t even begin to imagine.” Arata shook his head. “Were you in pain?”

“Not a lot, and certainly not in the end. I just woke up here,” Tomio said, “The first few days were rough. I had to re-learn how to walk, and it was also the middle of winter. I was such a sight, stumbling around the tenth district. No one wanted anything to do with me until I found Miss Kana. She had only set up shop a few months before. I did those,” he waved aimlessly behind him, “and she hired me on the spot.”

“She must have been really excited.”

“Yes,” he sighed. He sat up, studying Arata’s face. “I promise, the nightmares don’t happen often anymore. It won’t be a bother.”

“It is a bother,” Tomio’s reaction was immediate before Arata could finish his sentence. He grabbed his face before he could turn away. “It bothers me,” he repeated, “because it obviously is a very terrifying experience for you. I hate that you were ever in that much torment.”

Tomio leaned forward and sought out a slow kiss. “Thank you.”  
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The next day, Arata couldn’t concentrate on his work. He kept fiddling with the end of his sleeve, and tapping at the top of the desk in annoyance. Tomio’s terrified face kept flashing in front of his eyes. _How could something like that happen to him?_ The girl across from him was glaring daggers. He clenched his fist and smiled apologetically. After another half hour of minimal productivity, he gave up on the stack of reports and headed outside. He needed to move.

He found himself at training ground five. Isuma, in cat form, was lounging on a pile of his clothes. His wide gold eyes lazily flicked to Arata when he approached. “Well, look who it is. I haven’t seen you in a week. One more day and I was going to have to pounce on you.”

Arata rolled his eyes. “Feel like sparing?”

Isuma yawned “Not really. I’m avoiding work for a reason.”

“Please?” Arata begged. “I’m feeling flighty, and I need a reason to move.” 

He raised a furry eyebrow. “Something wrong?” he asked. “You’re always twitchy when you’re upset.”

Arata shook his head. “Nothing really.” Isuma didn’t move. Arata sighed. “It’s just, why do disorders exist? The one’s that come from nowhere and just wreck everyone’s life?”

“Is this about your father?”

“Oh gods, no!” Arata said, “It’s my… boyfriend?” _It’s still so new for me to say._ “He’s fine now, just so you know.”

“Ahhhhhh,” Isuma straightened out, and transformed back into a human. Arata jumped and made sure to turn around before the smoke cleared. He put a hand on Arata’s shoulder when he was done. “So do you really want to know? Or were you just venting?”

Arata blinked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Why do people get genetic disorders? I can tell you where to find the answers.”

Arata had to blink again. “Are you serious?” he asked. Isuma nodded. “I got to be honest, I didn’t expect to have an actual answer.” 

“Yeah I know, I can recognize a rant when I see one.” He rolled his shoulders back and reached for his sword. “You need to look in the twelfth division.”

Arata gulped. “Twelfth? As in the Science center?”

“Yup. They got this new thing called a computer. It’s got all of its files inside it, and you can look at whatever information you want.” 

“You just walk in, and they let you use this ‘computer?’”

“Weeeeeellllll, not exactly.” He smirked. “I had to make sure circumstances were in my favor; meaning everyone had to leave for an emergency. It took me longer to figure out what disaster they would believe than it did to actually get into the building. I can let you borrow my technique.”

“Won’t they get suspicious if this ‘disaster’ alarm happens again?”

“Nah, I did it over seven years ago. You’ll be fine.”

“I… don’t think so. I don’t have very fond memories of the twelfth, and I’d rather not have anything to do with it. Can’t you just tell me what you found?”

Isuma shook his head. “I’m a firm believer of people going to the source for information. Besides, I don’t think you’d believe me.” He shrugged. “So you’re going to live with your moodiness and pass up an opportunity to sabotage Kurotsuchi’s bastard division.”

Arata paused for a moment considering, but then he remembered painful tubes and sharp scalpels and manic giggles. He shook his head. “Th-thank you for the offer.” He pulled out his sword. “But I’d rather beat out my feelings.”

Isuma’s face tried to remain neutral, but Arata saw a flash of downcast eyes: disappointment. “Suit yourself.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how it turned out to be this long, but here it is. Feedback is crucial seeing as this is my first fanfiction. My biggest fear is that I won’t represent the characters right! But give me anything! Errors, ‘Hate it’s, ‘Love it’s, ‘want to throw my computer at the wall’s, any review. Please and thank you!


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